Yet again
In other news, I'll spare you the gory details. However, I will say that being once again unemployed does not make me a derelict content to accept handouts from society. However, I would be willing to accept handouts from my parents. (This time, I will not spend the grocery money you send me on tattoos.)
In related news, I think my inability to succeed in traditional employment must have a lot to do with being raised by wolves. For example, wolves aren't required to be "detail-oriented" or to engage in "multi-tasking" behavior. Just the act of birthing this terminology onto the innocent white expanse of my computer screen gives me sweats and chills. When I try to be "detail-oriented," my brain feels like it is being stretched (by details, mind you) as far as it can possibly go until SNAP! Suddenly, in other news everywhere, the minuscule shreds of my concentration lay scattered at my feet. (For the record, "multi-tasking" makes my brain feel like it is being poked by hundreds of tiny pins--not the healthful pins used in acupuncture, but the unhealthful, painful kind used in "multi-tasking"--until fuses start blowing and the lights go out. Total darkness.)
In even other related news, I am sadly coming to terms with the reality that my dream job does not exist. High pay, no accountability. Great benefits, flexible schedule. And by all means, no details and no tasks. What I'm really good at, though, is sitting around reading and writing. Maybe in a previous century and a different bank account I could have been a gentleman scholar. Plus my natural disposition towards insanity ensures there would have been scandal. Just to keep things interesting.
In previously relayed news, I'm going to keep sparing you the gory details. Let's just say I have a lot more time to work on writing musicals and leave it at that.
Here is a poem.
In related news, I think my inability to succeed in traditional employment must have a lot to do with being raised by wolves. For example, wolves aren't required to be "detail-oriented" or to engage in "multi-tasking" behavior. Just the act of birthing this terminology onto the innocent white expanse of my computer screen gives me sweats and chills. When I try to be "detail-oriented," my brain feels like it is being stretched (by details, mind you) as far as it can possibly go until SNAP! Suddenly, in other news everywhere, the minuscule shreds of my concentration lay scattered at my feet. (For the record, "multi-tasking" makes my brain feel like it is being poked by hundreds of tiny pins--not the healthful pins used in acupuncture, but the unhealthful, painful kind used in "multi-tasking"--until fuses start blowing and the lights go out. Total darkness.)
In even other related news, I am sadly coming to terms with the reality that my dream job does not exist. High pay, no accountability. Great benefits, flexible schedule. And by all means, no details and no tasks. What I'm really good at, though, is sitting around reading and writing. Maybe in a previous century and a different bank account I could have been a gentleman scholar. Plus my natural disposition towards insanity ensures there would have been scandal. Just to keep things interesting.
In previously relayed news, I'm going to keep sparing you the gory details. Let's just say I have a lot more time to work on writing musicals and leave it at that.
Here is a poem.
2 comments:
remember, you've got those naughty catalogs as leverage--never underestimate the power of a good lawsuit (or at least the threat of a legitimate one).
i found your blog--i will try to integrate the modified modified roy roger into my next bar expenditure.
<3 sharon
I'm glad you found me. I'm sure your modified modified Roy Rogers will be glad to be found.
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