Listening:
"Head like a Hole," NIN
"Not a Pretty Girl," Ani di Franco
"Gold Rush Brides," 10,000 Maniacs
"Thinking of You," A Perfect Circle
"The Sky is Broken," Moby
"Cruel," Tori Amos
"The Lotus Eaters," Dead Can Dance
"Coming Up," Ani di Franco
"Big Empty," Stone Temple Pilots
"Man-sized Sextet," PJ Harvey

Phear me for my period starts today. I might kiss your hand, I might tear off your head. Who knows?!?! I sure don't! *laughs maniacally*

I'm mostly in a good mood and nothing's really pissing me off except that I have to bite off the impulse to say something really snotty and mean anytime someone says *anything* to me. Then I wonder why they don't wanna keep my company.

Management brought doughnuts and I broke down and had one. So that's my fat intake for the week. I used to say that I wouldn't refuse free food at work unless it looked unappetizing. But anyway...tonight drinks are on the house and so are the appetizers so I guess I'll have to be strict with myself. Also I'm not going to be able to stick to Slimfast once we leave for Vegas tomorrow. *sighs*

But at least Molasses agreed to go to Perversion tonight.

I have so many tedious details to get taken care of before I go and so much of it just plain feels futile. Making sure character sheets are perfect for games that I'm either going to be bored at or I know the storyteller and he knows my sheet better than I do. Signing and turning in legal documents so work can cover its butt for OSHA. Calling the mechanic over a repair they did last year that didn't last and see if they feel like giving me any money. *sighs*

Hey look, they're giving raffle tickets at work. I think I'm supposed to be excited about this. Bleah.

It's really truly interesting how optimistic and idealistic I feel in the evenings and how much I believe I can change things when I'm not at work. And then when I get to work all of my interest is completely sapped from me and I wonder what the big deal is and why can't I settle for the normal things that people want like a family and a home. It's nearly obsessing me these days.

absurd n. The condition or state in which humans exist in a meaningless, irrational universe wherein people's lives have no purpose or meaning.

What, precisely, is the point of furthering this species? What makes each of us so special that we're each individually entitled to spawn ourselves into ever-expanding units of a race of beings that does not know how to live within its means? When did we start excusing our behaviour just because it was what our parents did, or would have done if they had the chance? What gave us the idea that tradition would explain things more clearly than our own native intelligence?

I lack the conviction to be a true nihilist but I have my days when I really identify.

But I can turn on a dime. I think when I get out from under the opressive thumb of work I feel less useless and things actually seem possible.

The last real movement that believed in hope and good things were the hippies. And we all know how seriously they were taken.

Gah. It's so cold in the office and I'm pretty sure it's plenty warm outside. But I have to stay at my desk.

I wonder why hope and peace are so hard to get into? I don't mean as concepts to appreciate or ideals to have, but why are they hard to think about? People seem to have a default position of 'ok' that is made up of not causing trouble and not doing bad things...but it's really hard to find out what they *are* doing. Maybe at 'ok' a person is more or less perfectly inert, probably vegetating in front of the TV.

But why aren't there books on movements of Hope and Goodwill? Why is anything having to do with the subject written off as hopeless idealism, whereas the subjects of antiestablishmentarianism (man, I love that word) and anarchy aren't? Well okey, since the Sex Pistols 'anarchy' has looked a little silly, but why does it take a combination of drugs that make a person suicidal and hugely destructive acts to make someone's ideals serious and weighty? So the hippies took drugs that made them happy. They almost never bombed anyone.

Maybe they were too high to write moving autobiographies of their struggles.

But I think properly treated, an investigation of optimistic themes could be as deep and thought-provoking as their antithetical counterparts. Not that I'd know where to start. Not that I have *any* idea how to make any such treatment significantly different from an episode of the Powerpuff Girls.

*sighs* Or maybe I'm just talking out of my ass.