well rested

It's Friday, and I'm at the coffeehouse. Exhausted from resting.

I was thinking of going to my sister's house over the week-end, but I don't think I'm going to do that. I think I'm just going to concentrate on my writing, which I have not really been working on at all. We'll see. It's like I spend HOURS sleeping and doing nothing, and then maybe one or two hours during the day working on my book. So, I guess I won't go to my sister's house over the week-end. I will need those extra two hours to do some work. Or should I say, I'll have two extra hours of work under my belt.

concentration

It's Wednesday, after Christmas, and I'm at the coffeehouse. Doing nothing.

I'm having trouble concentrating on my writing. Which is absurd, because I constantly complain about my life, and my writing is a way I could change it. I might leave soon, I keep saying I have all this time to write lately, but ... the problem is that if I don't actually do it, I'm screwed.

I'm going to go to the movies today, and then I will go to the bookstore tonight. Hopefully, it will be a good trip.

I'm going to wait to buy my new computer. On January 15, they are having a Macworld event, and I should get it after that in case they revamp the new Macs, boost their speeds or drop prices.

so bland

It's Sunday, and I'm at the coffeehouse. I need to find a new place to hang out, this one is getting boring.

I'm going to work on my book, completely. That is what I need to do, maybe not even get a new computer. Or maybe I should find a new job.

Actually, what I really need to do is just work on my book. Like constantly. I really want to finish it. It's so funny, because this nice girl at the coffeehouse just said we should hang out, but in reality, all I ever do is hang out at coffeehouses. And I'm so tired. But yet, I don't really work enough on my book. But I should. The book is all that matters. I should try to finish it as soon as possible. No, I am going to finish it as soon as possible. That way I will never have to work on the week-ends again.

world of warcraft

So, I play this game World of Warcraft. It's funny, because my nephew would always rag on me, saying I wasn't playing the game right. That I wasn't leveling fast enough. And all I could think was, you're an idiot. I'm not trying to compete on this stupid game. It's fun and addictive, though.

My sister is supposed to be sending me a gift card for Apple, but it's driving me crazy. I don't want to wait anymore. I just want the damn computer. I think I'm going to go buy it tomorrow, but then again, I might force myself to wait. The other thing I might do is go see Sweeney Todd, but it looks like crap. I hate how they titled it "Demon Barber of Fleet Street." It's like, yes idiots, we know where the fucking musical came from.

I was at the bookstore tonight, and it seemed so boring. I am going to go on the foxlanews or whatever website and look for some fresh coffeehouses to hang out at. Maybe I will go to the upscale coffeehouse tomorrow night, even though it is vile. At least they have fucking awesome cappucinos.

pumpkin pie

I'm at the coffeehouse/laundromat. There is an odd man here, who keeps going on and on about how he wants a piece of pumpkin pie. Another man is here, one who masticates loudly when he eats.

I should be working on my book, but ... I can't seem to concentrate. I look at the book and stare off. I've come to realize that, I just sort of ... my mind is conditioned to go from one stimulus to another. And honestly, I don't really like it. I'm basically bored with my life. And that has been a constant thing, for years now. It's part of what makes me want to quit my job, because I don't want to live this life where I am overstimulated. I don't want to drop dead of a heart attack for a job that is meaningless.

I'm thinking of going to get a new computer today, another concept I hve been mulling over for quite some time. We'll see.

dream

I had a dream last night. My frenemy, the one who got a great job, was working as an assistant on a TV show. There was a really handsome black actor on it, who was really homophobic. She was working a new job as a secretary, and I was sort of a mailboy, but I told her, "They wouldn't give me a job, even though I applied." Yet, I was sort of working for them, but I was still a mailboy. Then they were trying to offer me pie, they were all eating pie, and I thought it looked delicious, but I was TOTALLY avoiding them asking me if I wanted a piece.

Then it was 11 o'clock, but I was till sort of not at work. And I kept trying to figure out if I even had a job, if I was working on this production or working in the mailroom.

rip it

I got up early this morning and worked on the book a bit. Like, fifteen minutes at a time. But I think I realize what stunts creativity. And that's THINKING about writing instead of just doing it.

I told myself that if I am not going to work on the week-end, then I need to put in the same amount of time at writing as I would at the spa.