ofenchant's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Broomheads live on my street.
I get up. I go to work. I complain about not being appreciated. I complain about all the stupid things that people do. And don't do. I get offended because people try to tell me how to do my job. I know the time has come. I repeat myself. There is no semblance of joy or purpose at that place. I need to go. I come home. I eat vegetables. And salmon. Brown rice. And I stare at the inside of a carrot bitten in half. The beautiful circular patterns stare up at me, with nothing to offer. Except carrot. I even sound boring in my head. A monotonous, calming voice like that of a crazy person who is dangerously subdued, before exploding into a rage of insanity. I like the boring. It's noncommittal. Like playing scrabble with complete disregard for the score. Three letter words. I did want to watch Riding in Cars With Boys but the television is occupied. I guess that's why I'm staring into the little white box and dreaming of Tina Wafers. 10:20 p.m. - 2008-02-08 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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