Sunday Afternoon @ work

I really dont want to go to that meeting. I don't. Its a Sunday evening dang it, I should be wallowing away in my comfortable little bed- not slogging in the hot, mid-June sun, jumping from bus to train to bus for a job that I'm not even being paid for. Especially not with this snotty, sniffly cold thats been acting up since last monday. Ugh.

But, its for love, so I will go. And there you have the underlying theme of my life. The things that I do, with this blind, fanatic hope that my life will unfurl into something meaningful- as long as I keep pumping the love. Bah.

Is this really going to work? Sometimes I wonder, if it hadn't just all been youthful fallacy- I should have just stuck to something more predictable. Something that could be defined better, more marketable. Everyone's born with a healthy dose of cynicism these days and no body expects you to actually like what you to do, let alone love it. Isn't that messed up?

Well, it remains to be seen, how this experiment is going to work out. I write some of it out here, especially those that are as mundane as hell,  for company's sake,  as a record of how yet another, supposedly insignificant day of life passed by. Because the blank spaces and the white noise, that seems to be the stuff that life is really made of- not gore and glory and drama. It's for posterity, you know.

 Okay, now I feel compelled to wink.