No artist is pleased. There is no satisfaction at anytime.
There is only a queer, divine dissatisfaction,
a blessed unrest keeps us marching and makes us more alive than others.
-- Martha Graham to Agnes De Mille
Was || Will Be || Past Moments || Now || Notes

2001-07-30 - 1:36 p.m.

no response

got a staff meeting in about half an hour. i'm trying to give myself an attitude adjustment. i'm trying to find a way to enjoy my life here at work.

some progress, but not yet enough.

i'm feeling swamped by stuff i should be doing, but don't want to, both at work and elsewhere. i'm lacking in motivation and enthusiasm. i just want to hang out for a bit.

but i've been hanging out for more than a bit, slacking for more than a while. i don't need to rest up to recover my energy. i don't have any energy because i've been "resting up" for too long.

i need to get active again. work out regularly (gee, i've never said that before), get off my keister and make crap happen. nobody ever got to live the life of their dreams by sitting around. unless of course the life of their dreams *is* sitting around.

it's not what i dream about doing, it's just what i do.


all of the above is self-indulgent dreck, so instead i'll just say this:

i have nothing to say that i feel proud of saying.


joe banks: "is that a teddy bear?"

chief: "no it is my soul."

joe banks: "i hope you don't lose it."

chief: "me too."

last tuesday, our waitress called herself a flibberdigibit (i have no idea how that's spelled). i loved her instantly.


this entry brought to you by the beffuddling power of cold medication and low-grade fever.

i have absolutely no response to that.

Hosted by my beloved DLand
Sign My Guestbook!�� powered by SignMyGuestbook.com