Sun 4 Jun 2006
I think I’m broken.
I can’t seem to do anything even slightly productive. Everytime I try to sit down and write something, all my energy disappears instantly. I feel uninspired, unfunny, tired and useless.
I got a job, mowing graveyards, and I’m doing that at least, but beyond that… I got nothing.
Seriously, I got nothing.
June 4th, 2006 at 18:37
Wait, what?
Are you seriously mowing graveyards?
How do you go about getting such a bad-ass job and how do you go about not writing exciting stories about it afterwards?
June 5th, 2006 at 22:05
I’d secund Davey’s last sentiments if not for me knowing that A. this would probably only serve to increase your despair, while albeit funny, isn’t the most constructive thing to do if I wish to keep you as a vict- er, friend, and B. you’d not answer it anyway, because giving out such information could only help me getting a similar job, thereby rendering your now exalted position once again on equal footing with mine. And let’s face it, you’re not in this for the charity.
And C, if you WERE to answer it, common procedure would have you do so here, where the question was asked, so I’d learn how anyway, by your response to Davey. Of course, with this comment I might have sabotaged whatever slight chances he ever had of getting a serious answer out of you, but alas, such is faith. And me. Such is me. Is that even a meaningful sentence? I ramble. I usually do.
And to reply to your actual post as well, lighten up, dude. You’re just as funny as ever on MSN, which means that this down-period thing is just in your head. You’re probably misinterpreting your handy lazyness-instincts for lack of inspiration and energy, which if our conversations is any indication, is rather far from the truth. True, you don’t say “a lot”-a lot in those conversations, but then again, you never do. (Though this might be because of my not shutting up more than of your not shutting… up… that’s wrong. There’s no way to say that right. “Shutting down” would be even worse. Sigh. Stupid lingual limits.)What you *do* say is usually as inspired as ever, which is the bottom line here.
I talk, and write, too much. Much too much. Much too much, too much. Weeee. Words, as inturns, are fffun.
Dixi.
June 5th, 2006 at 22:12
Oh, to have your gift of gab!
Getting the job is just like getting any other job. Send an application to the parochial council, and hope that you are one of the lucky few to be delegated a graveyard.
Then hope that one of the other lucky few turn the job down, so you can take theirs as well.
June 5th, 2006 at 22:17
“Oh, to have your gift of gab!”
Well, it comes with lousy on-the-fly-typing and a sore lack of stamina as far as “proof-reading” goes. This time, I got to “I’d” and quit, which has lead to the abomination that is now known to the world at large as “secund”.
“Then hope that one of the other lucky few turn the job down, so you can take theirs as well.”
XD And he claims not to be inspired. I’d surely tremble before his wit when he actually is, then. As is, my kneecaps are already feeling kind of watery. (INSIDE! Metaphorically, like! I’m not suggesting his wit makes me wet myself. (Though now that I mention it - no, wait, I won’t, can’t, will not go there.))