This coming Wednesday my greatest joy will be finishing work so I can return home and spend the night alone playing World of Warcraft with a few thousand people, but I’d rather be on a date with someone who enjoys my company and notices that I’m around.
Addendum: This comic is a good description of how I feel. Minus the sexual aspect.
As a requirement for a refund for a certificate program I was reading about, the certification company requests the following:
• A copy of all 20 official rejection letters (for job applications).
This company knows what they’re doing. I know few men or women who would debase themselves enough to admit, “Yes, I got turned down for twenty different jobs worldwide. I am educated and intelligent, but still have nothing to offer the world. I want my $1000 back.”
Pull out the light bulb to hide the decay,
nothing uncovered, no need to say
“I hope never to see daylight in dark times
when the moon is shy,”
close both eyes
to the jealous clock green
with envy unmoving
unable to share dimension
31 million seconds
it takes two to beckon,
one to hollar, one to respond
a moment comes to be
Who knew watching football and eating steak could be so tiring? After the game wound down, I spent the remainder of the evening watching Stargate SG-1 and 24 episodes then turned to my first graphic-novel purchase Watchmen for a bit of reading. Suffice it to say, Watchmen is an amazing read and one of the best novels I’ve ever held between my hands.
The overall theme for today, however, had nothing to do with church, football, Prince, steak, science-fiction shows, or superhero novels other than the stage they provided for the pre-action in my mind.
The big question for today, if not the last week, is “What do I want to do?” and “How do I get there?”
At the rashest moments, I consider leaving everything, going to the airport with my passport and credit card, buying an open-ended ticket to another country, and beginning life anew. Then I decide I’d rather not leave my CDs behind and I’d really like to keep the Brasil and Portugal t-shirts I purchased at a discount from Wal-Mart in Colorado the week after World Cup 2006 ended with Italian victory.
Plus if I flew to Brazil, the Brasil t-shirt would help me seem more like a native. Now if only I could solve the pesky problem of knowing less than five words of Portuguese it could totally happen.
At the present rash moment, I’m considering popping Love Actually in my computer’s DVD drive and watching it for the second time since the last time thirty-five days ago. And with that, my dear friends, I must bid you good evening.