It’s not great weather outside. Raining all day, but that’s okay. Could be worse. Could be driving through the rain, which I will be doing soon.
Could be worse.
It’s a slow day and I’m now picking up the pace. Photography at a gig tonight. Bit of driving. Need to get a few things done before then, but there’s no telling if those things will actually get done. Or there is.
Will there be rambling in the same vein as yesterday? No. It’s not the right weather or time for that kind of thing. Instead there will be rambling in the vein of today. Of which the rambling will be boring. Or something. I don’t know.
I think that I’m rather tired, or maybe it’d be more appropriate to say that I am exhausted, because I certainly feel exhausted. The new job is great; fighting the old workplace is not. It needs to be done; there is money owed, and there is a history of abuse that needs to be discussed.
So it’s dark and raining outside and I guess I’m getting a bit heavy at the moment, and I think it’s due to how much I’ve been dealing with, and the difficulties I’m having in ensuring I don’t self-sabotage. That said, it is getting easier in not doing that, but I need to get faster and better and more efficient at the work I am doing, and I hope that is happening. I think out is.
It’s growing darker outside, and it’s nice that in here it’s not the coldest. It could be colder, but it could be much worse. It’s not a bad day overall, though I certainly have spent far too much time procrastinating, that’s for sure. I need to make something to eat soon, and I need to write something that’s a little more entertaining, or I don’t. Maybe I need to write something much more boring than what I am currently writing. That is something I should have considered a long time ago, and I probably did, and probably will again before this is all over. I’ll find out soon enough, or I won’t. In any event, life will go on and I’ll forget about this bit of writing, though perhaps it will creep up on me once more, somewhere down the track. I don’t know and I don’t care to know right now. Maybe later, but right now, no.
Time trickles away and I think that, in trying to avoid the inevitable, I will reach for my gloves. That doesn’t really do much of anything, but sometimes it’s good to pretend that there will be a change. Sometimes; not always.
Okay, so it warms my hands up, or rather it helps warm my hands up, and that’s a pleasant change. I might even argue that it’s a positive change, and it is, but that gets in the way of empty heaviness, of which some of this and some of this isn’t, and that’s okay.
The time it took to write five-hundred words: 07:24:75
Slow and fairly flat, I think.
Written at home.
Stupidity Hole 