Nerviosity
2003-08-07 � 10:39 a.m.

Critical thinking.

Focus and concentration.

Long-term planning, goal-setting and follow-through.

(I'm naming my weaknesses, in case you needed help following along.)

Hi! How are you? I am fine. This is a lie! I am cheery and normal! My mask is slipping! People are no longer fooled. The elaborate structures I have erected about me to show people are getting rickety because I no longer have the energy to maintain them. I am fine! How are you? eyestab!

Yes, I have failed to update for (checks) something like thirteen days. Have you missed me? No need to fib, children — it's okay to not miss my odious self-loathing.

Frankly there is little happening here in my small, tiny life. I've been going to work (sort of) and getting a new roommate (sort of) and preparing to go haring off into the desert (sort of) and not fitting in anywhere and being lonely. Pretty much par for the course, yeah?

Yeah.

My new day job still fails to excite. I am alternately frightened and amazed by the trust some people seem to have in my ability to do things that I have never done before and infuriated and disgusted by the way others condescend to me. Then there's the whole issue of me feeling kind of icky about selling things, and being involved in marketing. Argh.

I don't really have any good stories to tell, either. I could tell about the ugly break-up one of my friends is going through, but that's no fun. I could tell about how my Bad Married Friend is misbehaving again and how his wife called my house at seven-thirty in the morning yesterday looking for him and how I'm pretty sure he spent the night at some girl's house, but that's no fun either. In fact, that gives me a damn ulcer. Oh! I could talk about how my other friend has an ulcer! But wait — also no fun.

Um...I plan to get my hair cut soon. That's my exciting news: a haircut. A possible haircut.

There are only two weeks and a handful of days until I depart into the desert, dragging my roommate and the marvelous Vex in my wake. There is much to do, many things to prepare (...many machines on Ix...), some necessary and others just icing on the glorious cake that is Burning Man. I'm dragging more crap out into the deaert than last year — the makings of a giant dome, furniture, etc. — and this makes me nervous, but I almost don't feel like I am nervous enough, if that makes any sense. I ned to start making lists. What to bring, what to leave, what to do, what not to forget to not do...or something.

My bladder is now informing me that the decision to drink so many ounces of coffee this morning was a bad one, and I should probably be doing something to make my internals happier before they revolt. So I will.

Ta!

-t

Currently Aurally Inducing:
Selection of the Lyrical Vocabulary:

[ last ] [ next ]

�	Int4rw3b Personals

�	Gene Wolfe

�

Image Fix

�	Again, I Return. (Gonna have to knock this off...)

�	A Return of Sorts