Things were so mindnumbingly boring at the office tonight. My mood and energy have been improving over the last few days - and the three-day weekend I just experienced probably played a big role in the recharge - but an evening of sitting at your desk and doing almost nothing gets to be a drag, even if I would have considered it the perfect job when I was an idiot teenager.
Basically, I layout/design newspaper pages. The stories and pictures appear as they do because I put them there. Tonight I did three pages. Only three pages. Like, an hour of effort at most.
I need a change. A challenge. Something I can't do in my sleep.
I am going to try to break my recent shut-in status (well...more shut-in than normal status) and try to find some books at the local Borders. How they managed to build one in an area so infested with rednecks is beyond me, but it's a nice place to just lose yourself in. Seeing the occasional geek hottie doesn't hurt either, though the time a gothed-out teenage clerk was ringing me up and took a couple minutes to admire my Hunter S. Thompson novels felt weird. I think it was meant to be flirtatious, but the age gap made it feel creepy. Not Nabokov creepy...but creepy all the same.
I might give some Neil Gaiman books a spin. He's one of those guys I've always heard about, but never really tried. Might be worth a shot after hearing descriptions of The Graveyard Book and Good Omens. Maybe try some Sandman eventually as well.
Basically, I layout/design newspaper pages. The stories and pictures appear as they do because I put them there. Tonight I did three pages. Only three pages. Like, an hour of effort at most.
I need a change. A challenge. Something I can't do in my sleep.
I am going to try to break my recent shut-in status (well...more shut-in than normal status) and try to find some books at the local Borders. How they managed to build one in an area so infested with rednecks is beyond me, but it's a nice place to just lose yourself in. Seeing the occasional geek hottie doesn't hurt either, though the time a gothed-out teenage clerk was ringing me up and took a couple minutes to admire my Hunter S. Thompson novels felt weird. I think it was meant to be flirtatious, but the age gap made it feel creepy. Not Nabokov creepy...but creepy all the same.
I might give some Neil Gaiman books a spin. He's one of those guys I've always heard about, but never really tried. Might be worth a shot after hearing descriptions of The Graveyard Book and Good Omens. Maybe try some Sandman eventually as well.