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I don't have a lip thing.

So, I was exposing my future slacker plans to her, and I also let slip that I decided to write a book. I was afraid to type that because I think I kinda jinx myself when announcing grand plans into the DiaryLand void... but, I started it as soon as I hung up the phone.

I thought about posting the (very) small bit I have done, but decided against it. It's one thing to write loney words in here, and quite another to take yourself seriously as a writer and post something you take pride in. Because, honestly, I don't think I'm all that and a side of rice.

I found the starting point, and what I think I need to do now is an outline, just so I'm not stumbling through it. Since it will mostly be about the last couple of years, the diaries will help, I may even use parts, but I'm not going to just try to publish the entire thing, as I thought about doing before.

. . .

The interview this morning went well, I suppose. I turned down both offers. The jobs were sales positions, and I have no instinct for that kind of thing. Plus, one of them was for pet food made by a fairly large company, and there's no way I can sell food to companies that can kill male cats. I decided to be a little more moral about what kind of job I'm going to take.

I deserve to be picky. And, I deserve fifteen dollars an hour, paid time off, and benefits. And, A GODDAMNED PLACE TO EAT MY LUNCH IN AIR CONDITIONING!

. . .

That's really it.

I'm not feeling neglected, stressed, or irresponsible. I'm even not caring about boys. I am tired, though. You know the kind of exhaustion that follows you after you've really closed a chapter in your life?

I feel like I could sleep for eternity.

10:11 p.m. - 2003-07-22


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