If I Cry to Set the Mood, Oh Please Would You Cry Too?
Don't be ridiculous. Of course you won't. My old books and my obscure music don't matter much to anyone.
No one cares about what I do anymore, the relique of an age that never was.
Today was no better.
I heard "Long December" by the Counting Crows today at work. I hate them, but the song expresses how I feel, worn out and past care. I can't even find a way to properly describe how I feel. I just... don't feel anything right now. I don't want to do anything or talk to anyone or do much else but sleep. There was a party tonight, people from work, and lots of people asked if I was going. I didn't. I don't want to drive there, I don't want to drink, I don't feel like having fun.
It could be worse. I could be on a crying jag. Not that I can remember the last time I cried about anything.
I cut my finger yesterday quite badly. I was cutting lemons. I sliced into my finger at an angle. It's maybe 1/2 inch long and 3/4 inch deep. It's open and gross and will take forever to heal.
There are two new links up for those who are interested, to Kevin Jackflap's and Damon's blogs. They are both quite nice. I'll mention them later, I hope.
The Pastels were recommended to me recently (see below) by Kristin Idleberry. I wasn't going to listen to them at all, because someone was making me a mix CD of them. I gave up on that and played them on my show. They rock AND the boy is cute. I'll listen to more of that, oh yes.
I wanted to say that since I'd not responded at all to that comment.
I can't think of anything else to say.
Wednesday, March 19, 2003
Tuesday, March 18, 2003
I've just realized I've done a crap job of blogging lately.
I suck.
I've spent the last few nights talking to someone til very late which explains a bit.
I've also been working day after day (I'm on Day 6 of 9 consecutives ones. I loathe my crappy dead-end job right now) which explains a bit.
But mostly, I've just been despondant and apathetic: I'm morbidly depressed but can't be arsed to /do/ anything about it.
I should be writing and should be reading.
All I do is sleep and work. I've even stopped eating properly (Since Yo La Tengo my solid food has been: three bites of cauliflower, a beef and bean burrito, egg and sausage and, tonight, corned beef and cabbage) since I drink three lattes a day and the caffiene destroys my appetite. Conveniently,. I *am* losing weight.
I have links to post.
I have songs to discuss.
I have poems to put up.
But...
I'm just not in the mood tonight.
I thinkI'll just sigh and go to bed.
I suck.
I've spent the last few nights talking to someone til very late which explains a bit.
I've also been working day after day (I'm on Day 6 of 9 consecutives ones. I loathe my crappy dead-end job right now) which explains a bit.
But mostly, I've just been despondant and apathetic: I'm morbidly depressed but can't be arsed to /do/ anything about it.
I should be writing and should be reading.
All I do is sleep and work. I've even stopped eating properly (Since Yo La Tengo my solid food has been: three bites of cauliflower, a beef and bean burrito, egg and sausage and, tonight, corned beef and cabbage) since I drink three lattes a day and the caffiene destroys my appetite. Conveniently,. I *am* losing weight.
I have links to post.
I have songs to discuss.
I have poems to put up.
But...
I'm just not in the mood tonight.
I thinkI'll just sigh and go to bed.
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