About to go to work. Man, I need a car...


I'm finding it's hard to write anything when I know no one will read this until it's buried deep in the archives of this little journal once (if) it gets reasonably well-established. The fact that anyone in my family might stumble across this at any time is also a little off-putting. Not that I plan on saying anything in here I don't want them to know, but for some reason the thought of strangers reading these idle thoughts is more comfortable.

It's also occurred to me that I find it easier to write about things that upset me. That's usually when I really want to say something and don't care who I say it to. Being really excited about something also produces the same result; it's when I'm right here in the middle where I spend 95% of my time that there's "nothing to write about," though of course there is, it just either takes more effort to pry out of my brain or I simply don't feel the need to talk about it.


Alright, that's enough self-absorbed navel-gazing for one morning. Hey, maybe I'll get lucky and someone will actually stumble across this post and find it really, really fascinating. Until then I'm going to go make money by pretending to be an adult for about 9 hours. ;P