Sitting at my desk writing fitfully, I listen alternately to Pink Floyd and the tapping of cold November rain...life is ridiculously sublime when you accidentally quote Guns 'N' Roses lyrics.
I find that I'm still very good at my job, but I don't much care about it. I've always found the most amazing comfort in fatalism. I don't have any submission in my soul, so pure fatalism is forever barred to me, but even the knowledge that things will happen as they will helps me a little. I can cloak myself in the knowledge that I can't fix everything, and I can deal with things so much better. I woke up with the lyrics to "Every Day Is Exactly the Same" the other day, and it seemed so apropos, because I am still inside here and a little of me always shows through.
I find there's very little that I can't solve with a smile and a wink and just the right word at the right time these days. I feel like I'm floating through the days, and it's an okay feeling.
I've got a full weekend planned, but most of the plan seems to be meta-plan. I have developed a severe aversion to leaving the house during the Black Friday / post-Thanksgiving weekend. Even more, I have an even more pronounced aversion to grocery shopping the night before Thanksgiving. Thus, I will be flitting here and there to obtain organic heirloom turkeys and good pancetta and a proper wine or two and fresh veggies and whatever else I'll need.
I wonder what it says that I've had my Thanksgiving meal planned for the better part of a month--which is when I ordered the turkey. For someone that no one thought would manage to survive to twenty-five, I'm amazingly domestic.
At least I have a new Bond movie to see tomorrow.
I find that I'm still very good at my job, but I don't much care about it. I've always found the most amazing comfort in fatalism. I don't have any submission in my soul, so pure fatalism is forever barred to me, but even the knowledge that things will happen as they will helps me a little. I can cloak myself in the knowledge that I can't fix everything, and I can deal with things so much better. I woke up with the lyrics to "Every Day Is Exactly the Same" the other day, and it seemed so apropos, because I am still inside here and a little of me always shows through.
I find there's very little that I can't solve with a smile and a wink and just the right word at the right time these days. I feel like I'm floating through the days, and it's an okay feeling.
I've got a full weekend planned, but most of the plan seems to be meta-plan. I have developed a severe aversion to leaving the house during the Black Friday / post-Thanksgiving weekend. Even more, I have an even more pronounced aversion to grocery shopping the night before Thanksgiving. Thus, I will be flitting here and there to obtain organic heirloom turkeys and good pancetta and a proper wine or two and fresh veggies and whatever else I'll need.
I wonder what it says that I've had my Thanksgiving meal planned for the better part of a month--which is when I ordered the turkey. For someone that no one thought would manage to survive to twenty-five, I'm amazingly domestic.
At least I have a new Bond movie to see tomorrow.
it_thing_hard_on:
I'm thinking about gettin' me one o them turduckens.
trevallion:
The subtitled version was pretty cool because they make the subtitles sort of interact with the dialogue and the action. It's hard to explain but it keeps the subtitles from taking away from what's going on.