Everybody around me seems to be dropping like flies, only to morph into butterflies of sorts. Things on my end feel the same, except that I feel like I’m taking a bit more heat.
But just a bit.
Today is a day that has taught me a strong lesson in not hoping for too much — the more joyous the occasion you’re looking forward to, the more it feels that your mouth has entered a gutter once those plans have gone awry. While some people would fight tooth and nail to see it pushed through, I’m simply quietly accepting it because I don’t have much of a choice but to quietly accept it.
Unless someone feeds some Miracle Juice to the Advertising Gods.
Lee Clow, where are you, man? You should enter as an apparition in my life — like a Q (not the Bond techman — more of the ST:TNG demigod).
I haven’t felt this zonked since my first three months on the job.
It’s a strangely fulfilling feeling — if one particular thing would go my way, it’d be terribly fulfilling.
Where are you, you fucking hippie?