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Ahem and aheck
Mar. 21st, 2004 01:34 amYesterday's Quote of the Day: "I'm turned on by gaping stomach wounds and now I have a crooked pussy." - Amy.
Yes, there's context. No, you can't have it.
Today we're contemplating time. It ticks, it moves, it shakes, it shimmies. It gets down with its bad self. It's there in spades when you want none of it, and surprisingly lacking when you really need it.
It poots by interminably, causing whole Saturdays to waste away into some eternal depository for wasted Saturdays. Today, I did nothing. The dread machine sucked so much life like air through the breathing straw.
And I wonder... how did I live before the Internet? What did I do? What possible activities did I engage myself in before I discovered the Internet?
(we apologize for the change in topic - apparently, we're discussing Internet addiction)
What moments I have in my life without a computer, I sit wondering when I can get back on the machine. I no longer have an attention span long enough to complete a novel. A million projects are left to dust, started but never finished.
I'm in the middle of a novel, two fan fiction projects, yet another ficbunny, an Internet roleplaying scenario, plus about a dozen ideas for a second-thirteenth novel. I've stopped iconning because I get this nagging feeling that it's wasting more of my time than the idle browsing is. I refresh my friends list incessantly...
And why? In the scheme of things, it's just another minute, another hour, another day off of my eternal ticker. I could be out enjoying the bright Arizona sunshine, playing tennis at the nearby park, or shoving orphans off of tall buildings.
(No, no, we're talking about time again. Our sincerest apologies).
It does seem like I need to regiment what I do more. There was once a Calvin and Hobbes strip that showed Calvin dead-set and determined to have a much fun as humanly possible - because it was a Sunday, and you just have to make sure you've done something fun with your weekends. And the punchline was that doing so was a lot of work.
It's not as funny in a textual retelling, but I'm sure a lot of folks at least dimly recall what I speak of.
And now, I'm tired... And my day has ended. And I might spend tomorrow wasting more of this time. Or I might not. I'm making a determined effort to get things done tomorrow. Hell, high water, but probably neither.
Here endeth the strange rant thing.
Yes, there's context. No, you can't have it.
Today we're contemplating time. It ticks, it moves, it shakes, it shimmies. It gets down with its bad self. It's there in spades when you want none of it, and surprisingly lacking when you really need it.
It poots by interminably, causing whole Saturdays to waste away into some eternal depository for wasted Saturdays. Today, I did nothing. The dread machine sucked so much life like air through the breathing straw.
And I wonder... how did I live before the Internet? What did I do? What possible activities did I engage myself in before I discovered the Internet?
(we apologize for the change in topic - apparently, we're discussing Internet addiction)
What moments I have in my life without a computer, I sit wondering when I can get back on the machine. I no longer have an attention span long enough to complete a novel. A million projects are left to dust, started but never finished.
I'm in the middle of a novel, two fan fiction projects, yet another ficbunny, an Internet roleplaying scenario, plus about a dozen ideas for a second-thirteenth novel. I've stopped iconning because I get this nagging feeling that it's wasting more of my time than the idle browsing is. I refresh my friends list incessantly...
And why? In the scheme of things, it's just another minute, another hour, another day off of my eternal ticker. I could be out enjoying the bright Arizona sunshine, playing tennis at the nearby park, or shoving orphans off of tall buildings.
(No, no, we're talking about time again. Our sincerest apologies).
It does seem like I need to regiment what I do more. There was once a Calvin and Hobbes strip that showed Calvin dead-set and determined to have a much fun as humanly possible - because it was a Sunday, and you just have to make sure you've done something fun with your weekends. And the punchline was that doing so was a lot of work.
It's not as funny in a textual retelling, but I'm sure a lot of folks at least dimly recall what I speak of.
And now, I'm tired... And my day has ended. And I might spend tomorrow wasting more of this time. Or I might not. I'm making a determined effort to get things done tomorrow. Hell, high water, but probably neither.
Here endeth the strange rant thing.
