Thursday 5pm

I am so bored.

I have a choice of projects: a report on a Japanese insurance company or global macro-economics. Written by a nonnative speaker who doesn't understand that articles are not optional.

Hours putting in "the" and "a". I sometimes feel I am worth the money just for not saying, "No, I refuse. Get a monkey to do it."

I need a new forum. I'm tired of the uselessnet, which is for knobheads. I'm tired of wikipedia, which is a cunt magnet with its own cunt gestapo, with more fuckheads than my pantry has moths. I need a solution for moths in the pantry. I have become willing to exterminate them, so long as I don't have to see it or remove the carcasses.

I know. There's a hell just for animal lovers who tire of loving insects just as much. You don't have to tell me. I swim in the guilt of where the fuck did those little ants go?

Actually, I know what I need. Human beings. I tried to find something interesting in Brisbane, but it doesn't seem to exist. A green left thing that didn't suck would have been nice, but all I can see are activist things with a narrow focus. I don't want to stand on street corners.

I could walk but I'd have to walk before I could start walking. I saw a snippet on a current affairs show about a woman who walks for three hours a day and doesn't eat. She seemed to be complaining that she had become thin. I couldn't help thinking, you lucky bitch. Not only can you spare three hours for walking but you are as thin as a rake. Yes, she will die of it. Okay, there's that. But we all die. Is it worse to die of being thin than it is of smoking? Or, heaven help us, of being old?

There is no one here who cares about the big hurdle at Cheltenham. I miss the geegees. I miss pubs. I miss people who laugh at themselves. I miss myself.

The mowing man looked at me strangely today. He said, do you want it mowed? I said, does it need it? I was hoping to convey, well, you are the mowing man, I bow to your expertise. There are some shoots, he said. Well, do it if you want, I said. No, he said, I'll come back next week. He looked disappointed in my participation. He felt I could raise my game.

Well man, I was thinking, you did wake me up. That's why I look like I just dragged myself out of bed. You rang my doorbell. That was nine hours ago. I haven't seen another human being since, except for T's troglodyte dad, who I glimpsed at about 3, but we don't know each other, and even if we did, I would not have anything to say to him about anything.

posted by Dr Zen @ 4:53 pm