outer-jessie's Diaryland Diary

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impossible dreams: the anti-boredom

My god, I'm such an idiot. I just got on chat while in the middle of writing a big long entry, and erased the damn thing. Why did I do that? Yet another item to add to my Not the Smartest Thing I've Ever Done list.

Old entry, which is dead and buried and can now only be summarized, entailed my new-found desire to be friends with Alanis Morisette, my desire for more women and specifically more close friends in my life, and my desire for a new job. It also covered a vast list of pros and cons of the as-yet-nonreal new position I hope to have. In conclusion, it decided that someday I would live on a mountain and take pretty pictures of the sky with my telescope. So I guess you could say, it was an entry of wild fantastical nonsense and hopelessly unrealistic aspirations.

While I'm here, I should mention that I've recently begun getting scared of becoming schizophrenic, thanks to the fact that I can't deal with everyday life some of the time and I hate where my present is leading my future, as well as some possibly erroneous information on the disease. I think at one point, I decided this was all thanks to hormonal and seasonal affects, and dismissed it. It will be back, but it's not back now, so let's move on.

I am on a quest for adventure. I'm looking into something in archaeoastronomy (sound it out) and seriously considering going back to Arizona. I've thought about buying a dude ranch, but Rob's afeared a horses so that's no good. I would become a pirate, but I don't know how to sail and it doesn't quite agree with my ethical values. I just want to spend my time doing something new-fashioned in an old-fashioned place. And by new-fashioned, I mean that I don't want to be a house wife.

Now as I was telling ladymercury this morning, I intend to do some actual work today. Yes, I for real, really do. I'm sorry to say it, but this will require my not being here on chat, and not checking my buddy list every thirty seconds to see if anyone's updated. I'm also not allowed to check my yahoo/diaryland email until, oh, say, two o'clock. (stabs knife into heart) It's all right, everyone will just have to write me at my college account. Eehhhxcellent. Ok, now I'm off to the bathroom, but I swear, when I get back, it's straight to work! Here's a clean piece of paper to write my notes on, and a fresh screen to do the work.

THREE HOURS!! I CAN'T CHECK MY MAIL FOR THREE HOURS!!

I can do this. I'll see you at two.

10:36 a.m. - 2001-12-18

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