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Apr. 29th, 2005 08:48 amHeadache, slight, pressing at the top of my neck.
The office seems lonely and dead today. My outlook is slanted towards the negative, and I am not quite sure how to snap out of it, short of maybe, you know, tossing some office chairs through windows and storming out of the office to spent the rest of the day nursing a big styrofoam cup of tea on the lakeshore.
It's very quiet, and I am hoping to be able to get these Carnivale episodes to play on this computer. That would be nice. I started watching the first few minutes of "Milfay," which I'd actually seen when it originally aired, but then![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
thajinx called, and we had a hilariously awesome conversation (as usual), so I brought the discs that wildsoda sent with me to work today.
Yesterday was Take Your Child to Work Day, and so my day was punctuated with pandemonium-heard-through-walls, as my office backs up to the main dining area for the company. Long streams of munchkins would tromp past my office, only a few stopping to read the flyers we print up every year for this day:
The first year I worked here, I wrote in the truest answer, "Painter."
Last year, I wrote, "Switchboard Operator with a Degree in Theatre," and I also changed the photos from the hokey 'occupational' ones to a portrait of Shakespeare and a pissed-off looking operator.
This year, I wrote, "painter, a millionaire, an actor, a genius, an architect, a writer, a singer, a songwriter, a movie director, a scientist, an explorer, an astronomer, a mysterious force with which to be reckoned."
I've only dabbled in a few dreams, it seems. And from day to day, it seems like the inherent worth of all that I've accomplished varies wildly. I suppose that's the human condition, bub.
The office seems lonely and dead today. My outlook is slanted towards the negative, and I am not quite sure how to snap out of it, short of maybe, you know, tossing some office chairs through windows and storming out of the office to spent the rest of the day nursing a big styrofoam cup of tea on the lakeshore.
It's very quiet, and I am hoping to be able to get these Carnivale episodes to play on this computer. That would be nice. I started watching the first few minutes of "Milfay," which I'd actually seen when it originally aired, but then
thajinx called, and we had a hilariously awesome conversation (as usual), so I brought the discs that wildsoda sent with me to work today.Yesterday was Take Your Child to Work Day, and so my day was punctuated with pandemonium-heard-through-walls, as my office backs up to the main dining area for the company. Long streams of munchkins would tromp past my office, only a few stopping to read the flyers we print up every year for this day:
WHEN I WAS
YOUNGER,
I ALWAYS WANTED
TO BE A
___________________
The first year I worked here, I wrote in the truest answer, "Painter."
Last year, I wrote, "Switchboard Operator with a Degree in Theatre," and I also changed the photos from the hokey 'occupational' ones to a portrait of Shakespeare and a pissed-off looking operator.
This year, I wrote, "painter, a millionaire, an actor, a genius, an architect, a writer, a singer, a songwriter, a movie director, a scientist, an explorer, an astronomer, a mysterious force with which to be reckoned."
I've only dabbled in a few dreams, it seems. And from day to day, it seems like the inherent worth of all that I've accomplished varies wildly. I suppose that's the human condition, bub.
