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So.
Worked lots today.
I was hoping to see Kevin on at some point tonight. Since he'd promised he'd let me know about going to the RenFaire here. Haven't seen him yet. So I guess that's out.
It works out, though, since I'll be able to sleep off a couple bottles of Bartles and James Strawberry Daquiri.
Anyone remember those commercials? I can, vaguely...
Hem.
Saw Brisco County this morning. TNT is playing them at odd hours. Oh, for a cable connection.
Figured out last night that there's no way I'll make Dexcon. There's just too much shit going on. The car, the loan, school... And just the basic thing of surviving and buying food every so often.
shrug.
Ah well.
Wrote some weird fucking shit last night at work. Lynx, you'd better wander on at some point.
I miss you.
I was looking at the new RRs on the boards and realised something. I'm so tired of blood and guts and gore. It seems like that's the only thing people like writing. And most write it badly.
Oh, Raven's good at it. So's Rossi and Dex... Azzy. And that's about it.
Even I don't match up to Raven when it comes to gory horror. His post in the AoA RR where he turned himself into a HunterKiller thing is still haunting me at times. *shudder*
Watched "Laughter on the 23rd Floor" tonight. Showtime did a good job. Nathan Lane is fucking awesome. The rest did good jobs, too. But, daayam. Lane is a fricking genius.
Also watched the Sid Caeser special that was after it. Fun stuff.
I'm beginning to loathe my job. I am not a people person. I don't like talking to people I dislike. And I suck at sitting still while bored for hours one end.
This job is not for someone like me. It's for someone like Velma, who is unable to grammatize properly and spell my name without adding an 'n' to it. *mutter* It's ANA. Not Anna. Stupid bitch.
I'm not sure where I belong anymore.
Sometimes I think I'd kick ass as a proofreader or editor somewhere. But no one's going to hire someone without a degree in the field she's looking at. Then I occasionally wish I had the money to become a cameraman or a producer or a director.
But I don't.
Now is the time for me to go sit on the couch and cry into the cat's fur.
There's something very comforting about snuggling up to a warm and purring cat.
Worked lots today.
I was hoping to see Kevin on at some point tonight. Since he'd promised he'd let me know about going to the RenFaire here. Haven't seen him yet. So I guess that's out.
It works out, though, since I'll be able to sleep off a couple bottles of Bartles and James Strawberry Daquiri.
Anyone remember those commercials? I can, vaguely...
Hem.
Saw Brisco County this morning. TNT is playing them at odd hours. Oh, for a cable connection.
Figured out last night that there's no way I'll make Dexcon. There's just too much shit going on. The car, the loan, school... And just the basic thing of surviving and buying food every so often.
shrug.
Ah well.
Wrote some weird fucking shit last night at work. Lynx, you'd better wander on at some point.
I miss you.
I was looking at the new RRs on the boards and realised something. I'm so tired of blood and guts and gore. It seems like that's the only thing people like writing. And most write it badly.
Oh, Raven's good at it. So's Rossi and Dex... Azzy. And that's about it.
Even I don't match up to Raven when it comes to gory horror. His post in the AoA RR where he turned himself into a HunterKiller thing is still haunting me at times. *shudder*
Watched "Laughter on the 23rd Floor" tonight. Showtime did a good job. Nathan Lane is fucking awesome. The rest did good jobs, too. But, daayam. Lane is a fricking genius.
Also watched the Sid Caeser special that was after it. Fun stuff.
I'm beginning to loathe my job. I am not a people person. I don't like talking to people I dislike. And I suck at sitting still while bored for hours one end.
This job is not for someone like me. It's for someone like Velma, who is unable to grammatize properly and spell my name without adding an 'n' to it. *mutter* It's ANA. Not Anna. Stupid bitch.
I'm not sure where I belong anymore.
Sometimes I think I'd kick ass as a proofreader or editor somewhere. But no one's going to hire someone without a degree in the field she's looking at. Then I occasionally wish I had the money to become a cameraman or a producer or a director.
But I don't.
Now is the time for me to go sit on the couch and cry into the cat's fur.
There's something very comforting about snuggling up to a warm and purring cat.
