Boring boring bored
Work today was so boring. I barely did anything.
I just have no motivation. No concentration. I'm just tired and bored... even though I have stuff to do.
I have an assignment due tomorrow and I still have 500 more words to write and I am trying to concentrate with every ounce of my strength and it is just so hard. The assignment is easy, and that's what scares me.
Today at work I was so bored I even noticed something very strange. There is someone who lifts the toilet seat all the time in the ladies loos. Does one of the women at work have a hidden secret? I'm going to be tempted to watch who goes in and out of the toilets and keep on dashing in to see who it may be... the only evidence is the haplessly raised toilet seat. Hmmm.
But work is so incredibly dull. Just like every prostitute says, I only do it for the money. Except I'm whoring my words and my journalistic ethics instead of my body. Commercial "journalism" is the new name for the job, but it is not journalism at all.
The only interesting things that happened today were
a) a really strange bra arriving at the lifestyle editor's desk that was seriously bizarre looking.
b)a freak hail storm (despite it being warm and sunny most of the day) that meant Sydney kind of looked a bit like it had been snowed on. Victoria Park looked all white and frosty, and it reminded me of all those below freezing mornings in Harrow when the grass would all frost over, or those cold days when the snow would fall. Except it wasn't cold. And it was Sydney- it never snows in Sydney- so it was looking pretty bloody strange for Sydney.
I just have no motivation. No concentration. I'm just tired and bored... even though I have stuff to do.
I have an assignment due tomorrow and I still have 500 more words to write and I am trying to concentrate with every ounce of my strength and it is just so hard. The assignment is easy, and that's what scares me.
Today at work I was so bored I even noticed something very strange. There is someone who lifts the toilet seat all the time in the ladies loos. Does one of the women at work have a hidden secret? I'm going to be tempted to watch who goes in and out of the toilets and keep on dashing in to see who it may be... the only evidence is the haplessly raised toilet seat. Hmmm.
But work is so incredibly dull. Just like every prostitute says, I only do it for the money. Except I'm whoring my words and my journalistic ethics instead of my body. Commercial "journalism" is the new name for the job, but it is not journalism at all.
The only interesting things that happened today were
a) a really strange bra arriving at the lifestyle editor's desk that was seriously bizarre looking.
b)a freak hail storm (despite it being warm and sunny most of the day) that meant Sydney kind of looked a bit like it had been snowed on. Victoria Park looked all white and frosty, and it reminded me of all those below freezing mornings in Harrow when the grass would all frost over, or those cold days when the snow would fall. Except it wasn't cold. And it was Sydney- it never snows in Sydney- so it was looking pretty bloody strange for Sydney.
posted by Ashlee at 8:15:00 pm
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