4-2: Drained dry of wet water

Good evening Oakville, Indonesia and Korea.

This won't be my best post. It will not be a very good post. It was not a very good weekend. It wasn't a bad weekend. It just wasn't worth writing about. I wish I had someone else's problems (that would in exchange mean that someone else had my problems, including, presumably, my inability to handle them despite their relative irrelevance.)

The job search has taught me something, and it's not a good thing, that I can accomplish just as much (if not more!) by taking absolutely no action than by setting out to accomplish something.

Yeah, that's actually terrible.

I can't bring myself to do the things I am supposed to. I'm quite full of angst, annoyance and frustration. What am I doing? What am I supposed to do? How do I make the transition? Fuck, fuck, fuck!

I'm losing my cool!

I had this dream last night, it was my Convocation ceremony again. Mark Knopfler was there, because I had been listening to Dire Straits the night before. nothing in the dream made any sense (Knopfler was in fact a decrepit old man when he probably in fact has many good years left.) So in my dream, I think, "This is fuckedup," and wake up. Even my dreams are frustrated.

I cannot do this much longer, this bullshit job-search. It shouldn't be this difficult, but then again, as a 20-year-old man, I should also be able to eat in public places without wanting to evacuate. But I find I still have that problem. That's part of the reason why I will not work in food service, because it gives me a similar feeling, except worse because that's other peoples' food. I'm aheadcase man, and I hate this entry because that's all I can concentrate on right now. My failings.

Bluhhhh. Funny stuff, though; I hadn't checked my e-mail in about three weeks. This is partly because it's such a hassle to get into it, and partially because I owe my scene and heard editor an article and was afraid he'd be wondering where it was. Well I finally bit the bullet and checked the e-mail, and the only thing in there was an offer, from the beginning of the month sometime, to go to another movie's press screening (a small one, though,) and telling me not to stress on the article too badly. I had seriously underestimated that guy's coolness.

And that put me at ease tonight, but I'm still lost in the grand scheme of things. Still not feeling too funny, still can't concentrate on stuff I should have taken care of. Still can't find a job, still going on a very long time without any meaningful physical contact with a woman (no matter how I spin it it's still a long time... a year and a half, two years or three years, take your pick.) But can I really complain?

After all, I guess that's just my lot. I got no job, no woman, but really, for now, no worries. It's not like I'm hurting, it's not like I have anyone to please but myself. But how did Lennon put it, "Please please me, woah yeah, like I'd please youuuu."

I finally finished an article for Interneta for once, it'll be up with some new reviews (long-overdue in some cases.)

I'm going to start getting up early. All summer last year I got up at 9 AM and I felt OK about it. At the end of this year I got a bit comfortable with a flexible schedule, but I think I'm sleeping too much of my life away. The other day I got up at 11:30. Yerk. There's so much more I could be doing. Maybe.

There's some deadwood I should be clearing from the path of my life. Oh lordy won'tcha keep on rockin'
-Scott