Wow, talk about night and day (stupid puns, why do I keep using them?)
My day entry:
What I accomplised at work today:
1.) While trying to get someone's attention to unlock the front door and let me inside (yes, Barnes & Noble, a Fortune 500 company, does not have a doorbell or anything), I started jumping up and down to keep warm and repeatedly pounded on the door. A car drove by and stopped, its occupants staring at me. I realized that to them I must have looked like a raging drunk trying to break into Barnes & Noble. I started to laugh then, and the people in the car gave me a frightened look and sped off. I must have looked psychotic. Heh heh.
2.) Almost went Oedipus on myself after seeing Schizophrenic Steve remove his shirt in the music section. Actually, I'd rather not talk about that traumatic incident right now....
3.) After using a pair of scissors (why do they call scissors pairs? I mean, really?), I dropped them back in the drawer, but they landed on a pen and flipped it up. It smacked me right between the eyes, but no one else was there to see it and laugh but me.
I wish I could be this productive every day....
Now my night entry:
Why the hell do people date? I don't even know what a date is anymore. All I do know is that I'll probably never be as hot as the perennial "other guy," and I don't know if I'll ever be as stable (see, to me, that's kind of fun, but apparently I'm abnormal in this belief....) Oh, and I hate beer (though make up for it with copious amounts of liquor), which puts me at a disadvantage in EVERYONE's eyes at college. All I can do is write a story about it. It'll be a damn good one, no doubt, but I'm tired of just writing stories (and bitch-fests like this one on online blogs). Dream King, where are you?
Fuck this shit man. And fuck all my roommates (you know, all two of them) who skipped town while owing me money. Now I have my whole apartment to myself and nowhere in this podunk town to go on a Sunday night. I get bad thoughts. Everything just seems to be worse when I'm here on my own and letting my stupid little head run rampant with my life. I want wine.
Random thought of the day (this one's not mine -- it's from the series I referenced above): "Everybody has a secret world inside of them. I mean everybody. All of the people in the whole world -- no matter how dull and boring they are on the outside. Inside them they've all got unimaginable, magnificent, wonderful, stupid, amazing worlds. Not just one world. Hundreds of them. Thousands, maybe. Isn't that a weird thought?"
My day entry:
What I accomplised at work today:
1.) While trying to get someone's attention to unlock the front door and let me inside (yes, Barnes & Noble, a Fortune 500 company, does not have a doorbell or anything), I started jumping up and down to keep warm and repeatedly pounded on the door. A car drove by and stopped, its occupants staring at me. I realized that to them I must have looked like a raging drunk trying to break into Barnes & Noble. I started to laugh then, and the people in the car gave me a frightened look and sped off. I must have looked psychotic. Heh heh.
2.) Almost went Oedipus on myself after seeing Schizophrenic Steve remove his shirt in the music section. Actually, I'd rather not talk about that traumatic incident right now....
3.) After using a pair of scissors (why do they call scissors pairs? I mean, really?), I dropped them back in the drawer, but they landed on a pen and flipped it up. It smacked me right between the eyes, but no one else was there to see it and laugh but me.
I wish I could be this productive every day....
Now my night entry:
Why the hell do people date? I don't even know what a date is anymore. All I do know is that I'll probably never be as hot as the perennial "other guy," and I don't know if I'll ever be as stable (see, to me, that's kind of fun, but apparently I'm abnormal in this belief....) Oh, and I hate beer (though make up for it with copious amounts of liquor), which puts me at a disadvantage in EVERYONE's eyes at college. All I can do is write a story about it. It'll be a damn good one, no doubt, but I'm tired of just writing stories (and bitch-fests like this one on online blogs). Dream King, where are you?
Fuck this shit man. And fuck all my roommates (you know, all two of them) who skipped town while owing me money. Now I have my whole apartment to myself and nowhere in this podunk town to go on a Sunday night. I get bad thoughts. Everything just seems to be worse when I'm here on my own and letting my stupid little head run rampant with my life. I want wine.
Random thought of the day (this one's not mine -- it's from the series I referenced above): "Everybody has a secret world inside of them. I mean everybody. All of the people in the whole world -- no matter how dull and boring they are on the outside. Inside them they've all got unimaginable, magnificent, wonderful, stupid, amazing worlds. Not just one world. Hundreds of them. Thousands, maybe. Isn't that a weird thought?"
VIEW 3 of 3 COMMENTS
Sounds like you had a crazy day at work
I've allways hated beer too , I used to stick to vodka before switching to bombay sapphire gin