graceland's Diaryland Diary

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Blah Blah Blah My Life

There was a dissenter to yesterday's entry. I like that. I welcome dissentry.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Today was a lot of blah blah blah. Someone at worked asked for my professional opinion today and I listened to their scenario and I gave them a serious look and said, "blah blah blah blah." I have reached a point of complete non-caring. I didn't dry my hair today. It looked like shit. I liked that.

I'm all done with working. I have no ideas. This is apparently fucking people up because I am the creative at work and I haven't had an idea in weeks. I haven't had a focused thought in weeks. I really just don't care. So people I work with are now forced to develop their own ideas. They still invite me to their meetings. I wonder when that will stop? We sit in these meetings and they all provide objectives and then they turn to me and wait for "the big idea."

The silence is deafening. A few weeks ago I just started saying, "I'm sorry, I don't have any ideas," and excusing myself from the meetings.

If there were a title on my nameplate at work, it would be "Big Idea Generator." It's kinda funny, because for most of my life every authority figure told me to get my head out of the clouds. To concentrate. Apply myself. Pay Attention. That last one was a reoccuring order."Grace! Pay Attention!"

"Mr. and Mrs. Land, Grace is highly intelligent, a provocative thinker, a creative writer, but she does not pay attention. She writes notes in class, she distracts the other students, she reads textbooks and assignments for other subjects, she's only in the room when she wants to be. And that's not nearly enough." I think that was courtesy of my 11th grade AP English teacher. She said the same thing to my parents in 12th grade also.

For the record, I am hearing everything, I'm just hearing it while my mind is working out something else.

And so I have no big ideas. My mind is nowhere else, it's just taken a break. My mind is fucking tired.

I fucking think all of the time. Sleeping or awake, I am thinking. I am thinking about crazy shit. Making up scenarios for people, fictional characters that I develop and sometimes create years of lives for them. Real people that I meet and people I pass on the street.

Today I stood on the sidewalk outside of my work to get some air and be away from my desk. A man walked past me with a smile on his face. It's rare to see someone walk down the street in New York smiling. I guess people here don't have much to smile about. Or maybe they are conserving their smiles? Maybe this region of the country can't smile and walk simultaneously? I don't know. For the next 10 minutes after that man walked by, I zipped through at least 10 scenarios of what that man could have been smiling about until I felt the impulse to chase after him, grab a hold of him and ask him what he has to smile about.

Today my brother asked me what I was going to do about this seeming funk and I told him that I planned on shutting down, hiding away and waiting for this life to end. He pointed out that there are approximately 60 years between now and then so it's going to be a long wait. He has a point.

I don't know what I'm going to do about it. I search for new jobs daily. That's a first thought. I read about 10 times what I used to. I'm just absorbing everything I can get my hands on. I looked at Outward Bound as an alternative but at this point in my life, that seems like something that will take me off a track rather than lead me to another one. I'm considering going to school learn to mix music. As in two tunrtables and a microphone.

That seems like a pretty stupid thing to do, doesn't it? It does to me, but I am interested in what there may be to learn about remixing and the people who teach that or choose to scratch. So why the fuck not?

I'm giving myself the weekend to think about it and to conduct research on any writng groups/classes that may also be available. I think that may be more on par with my personal and professional goals and would be a real step toward fulfilling a lifelong dream.

Until then, there's not much more I want to do then sit in this chair, lean my head back, take a slow drag off of this cigarette and listen to Dave Grohl sing a nasty version of "Darling Nicki." There's something incredibly hot about Dave Grohl inviting you over to grind.

8:08 p.m. - 2004-02-25

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

previous - next

latest entry

about me

archives

notes

DiaryLand

contact

random entry

other diaries:

Sullivan40
CubicleGirl
Toastress
isingsolo


powered by SignMyGuestbook.com