Yay! 200th post!
So I suppose I'd better make it a good one. Full of my usual razor sharp wit and acerbic commentary coupled with pithy, erudite and provoking insights into the unfolding world about me.
Well, that's not ever going to happen so get used to disappointment.
End of the week blues I guess. It's been a week of giddy highs and medium blahs. The blahs are worse than bad times in some ways. Times when you see the possibility of joining the other droids on the office treadmill, and staying on it for ever. I like to think I'd kill myself if that happens. Except of course that I'll already be, to all intents and purposes, dead. Another functioning component of Zombie Corp (Ltd). *shudder*
I always planned on avoiding a suit & tie wearing existence, and thank god I've not gotten that low yet, but I'm beginning to see that if I'm to do this kind of work then it can only be for short bursts. Else the life will be sucked out of me by the corporate vampires.
Admittedly I am in the public service (last refuge of the incompetent and all that: oh-my-god some of them absolutely useless), which isn't exactly the most interesting or fulfilling of workplaces. But then I think if my job required more of me cognitively I'd go mad. I'm only here for another 6 weeks and we'll see at the end of that whether spending my days pawing through dead people's lives is my bag. I'm already starting to have doubts.
But not all my problems can be placed solely at the foot of workin' fo da man. Oh no, some are of my own creation. Like yesterday when I spent the entire fucking day thinking it was wednesday. Or tuesday (the real one, not the other one that must have just happened in my head) when it was pissing with rain and muggins here goes and stands too close to a HUGE puddle of water just as a bus came zipping past. Can you say drowned rat? I knew you could. Oh well, at least all those years in the aquarium have completely inured me to being wet.
It's not, this week, been all bad by any means. Some parts have been just fantastic. But no-one wants to hear good stuff do they? Where's the pathos? The triumph of the human spirit over adversity? The fun of watching someone else pratfall? Admit it, if the Germans hadn't come up with the word schadenfreude we'dve had to invent it. Although we'd have made it shorter and easier to pronounce without spitting.
Right. That's your lot. Go home. More installments of fishboy moronity will be forthcoming. Oh don't you worry about that, there will be more... arggh...
Yay. Happy 200 to me.