Am I the only person to have read Freud around here? I mean – really?!
Mark:
“from a dream about honey bees on a school playground: kerry showing off his pirate sword took from a monkey bar. be careful, i told him, you’re going to stab someone with that sword of yours. kerry, c’mon, put the sword down, we’ll play dodge ball! honestly! kerry!“of course kerry stabs me with his sword while running to play dodgeball. i woke up, with the most incredible stomach ache.”
It was my father’s birthday on Friday, and I bought him this book on the history of the twentieth century, but I haven’t had time to send it to him yet, which makes me feel completely appalling – and indeed is pretty unforgiveable. The thing is, I pretty much know that whatever I buy him will be pretty much wrong. If he wants something he buys it himself, and he doesn’t really seem to have any particular “general interests” that a present can easily cater for.
I asked him what he wanted for Christmas one year, and he said that he’d like fifty Bic biros. So I bought him fifty Bic biros. He seemed as happy with them as anything else I’d ever bought him…
I’ve only made him smile genuinely once with a birthday present, which was for his fiftieth and contained fifty presents – from a bean bag frog to a vibro-massage kit. But although he smiled at the time, I don’t think any of the gifts were ever used again. In the end, I think my brother stole the frog, which we decided to call Wilbur. He got a hole in him in the end. All the beans fell out.
Disclaimer: Everything that follows is the result of me having had a bad day at work and should therefore be taken with a pinch of salt (the size of a small planet). God is love. Love is God. I am Bored. I’m going Home.
I have been working really hard today. I’ve got a lot of things done which needed to be done, and I feel quite proud of myself for having done them. However, it has to be said that I have a limited amount of respect for the things themselves. In fact, through my current distorted gaze, the only productive things I seem to have done today are:
Three perspectives on work, with excerpts [via metafilter and randomwalks]:
What are you supposed to do when what you do doesn’t give you pleasure? And if it’s not that you don’t like it but that it no longer likes you – well, what are you supposed to do about it? My whole work life feels completely out of control at the moment – spiralling all over the place. And decisions seem to be made about my future by, it seems, everyone other than myself. I probably just need a holiday (hopefully approaching rapidly – oh sunny Bristol, how fair thou art), but it doesn’t feel like that at the moment.
Being an unnecessarily defensive post about Tom’s inability to get things done on plasticbag.org:
Answer me honestly, oh faithful readers, do I (or do I not) look like Jack Nicholson?
Blogger just can’t sit still. Latest launch: blog*spot – a free blogger-blog hosting service. I have to confess though, that even after looking at their products page, I wonder how/if they make any money. And if there aren’t ads on blog*spot, you have to wonder how it keeps body and soul together.
I have this image of Meg and Ev sitting on a doorstep with two extremely powerful laptops, with a cable snaking sneakily out of a nearby warehouse, and “Will Code For Food” written on their T-shirts…
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