Beware of Writer
Beware of Writer II
Hopefully this helps you all deal with the writers in your life, feel free to share. And if you are a writer, save those close to you from the confusion and direct them to Chuck's blog.
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It's Wednesday (Link for title description.) and well, turns out I did something very wrong and something very right according to the world.
I think they were both somethings right but I've been wrong before.
The something wrong I did involved an event at work. I simply forgot I wasn't supposed to do certain things for the residents due to liability issues and when a board member learned of it, reprimanded me in a friendly manner. Okay, I get it, don't do that anymore. I won't. Or at least if I do, I will swear the person to secrecy and never mention it myself but it's more a case of I won't because I managed to ruin a $125 pair of wool pants in the helping. I am not made of money and will avoid any situation where I have to ruin another pair of pants that are worth more than a days work brings in to the bank.
The something right involved the inimitable Mr. Max who I am sure is a Wednesday car. Johnny Cash in the link has it about right I think and in the end, after spending time on Google to make sure I could do it - even though I've done it a hundred times in the past with other cars and this one too just on the opposite headlight - I was able to conquer my anxiety and change the damn headlight that went the other morning. In a WalMart parking lot, in my suit I changed the headlamp because I realized if I was bold enough to go to WalMart in a three piece suit, I could damn well change the headlight.
I'm still battling the urge to just give in to the depression waiting in the wings to consume me. It's a moment to moment thing and I'm constantly looking for distraction to keep from going under. Last night it was YouTube videos, today it's been thinking about the CRTC (Canadian Radio-television and Telecommunications Commission) and the way the Canadian government keeps reversing or overriding decisions it makes.
( Cut for Canadian Content... *snerks* )( Read more... )
This isn't to say that I don't see where the big boys are coming from. The nature of the internet is changing and not everyone is as text based as I am in my net wanderings. (I'm also one of the few people who NEVER goes over his plan for cell phone minutes - unless you're bleeding, dying, or stranded drunk somewhere, email me - I don't even have a land line anymore!) Netflix alone must give the big boys bandwidth nightmares. Anyways, that's all pretty tl:dr so if you want to hear an intelligently thoughtful rant on it go here and scroll down to the bottom to listen to George Stroumboulopoulos outline it pretty succinctly.
Alright, enough rambling for Wednesday. Time to prepare for Thursday.
After a terminally serial fail set of LJ cut fails, I'm just going to retry this entry all together. Apologies to anyone who was lost in the initial ramble.
I actually had answered this question as one of the first entries I made in this journal. It made sense to me to explain it at the time, though I can't be sure why I felt the need. I'm not always sure I understand my motivations for anything, even when I think I understand them. I'm going to (carefully) copy the original explanation in this post under a cut and pray it doesn't end up as messed up as the last time I tried to get it to work.
( By any other name... )
It's little wonder given the relative disaster of his life and mine comparatively that I really identify with him. There are a lot of places of overlap - enough so that I sometimes wonder just how unique my life really is when it seems as if the writers of this show have reached right into my brain for the character.
I've been thinking in this vein for a couple of weeks now and it disturbs me. Yes, my thinking can be a little twisty but I tend to do things like obey the law. Partly, this is because to keep my job I can't be convicted of a criminal offense but it's mostly a fear of failing. Failure to follow the rules leaves me feeling guilty and I have guilt issues aplenty without piling fresh ones on top.
So, other than the odd turn through the growing up phase where I smoked pot, drank too much, sometimes drove while inebriated, and did other things I'm not very proud of, I'm just about as straight an arrow as they come. I don't speed through residential areas or playground zones. I don't text or answer my phone while driving. I always try to just go along and get along. But this new development makes me ramble and froth at the mouth so click the cut at your own peril.
( Which is why all this pisses me off so much.... )
I think I get why criminals are criminals now. They are because they can be, because they've never had to or don't care about the people they hurt or the consequences of their actions. By defending my untraditional family, I will be at risk of becoming a criminal, but you know what, it don't fucking pay to be an honest citizen so why the fuck not.