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Mar. 12th, 2003 01:30 pmIt's been a hard couple of days at the ligoland theme and amusement park. I've been the only one running the show for the last 2 days. It's been not pretty. In case anyone is in doubt about it, I can once again confirm that the windows OS does in fact blow and suck at the same time.
Other than that, I think I'm finally starting to feel better. The whole liver thing, cold thing, brother being sick thing had consipired against that for a while. I keep going to see my witch doctor and he keeps tweaking my neural transmitters (among other things). Having your neural transmitters tweaked is like getting the world's greatest happy pill. Unfortunately, it only lasts for about a half a day. You wake up the next morning to find that your life is just as crappy as it was before only now it pisses you off more. *I just love when that happens*
The last couple of mornings have been hard to get out of bed. I huddle in the clean, white sheets and down comforter in the bluish light of dawn. Outside, the birds sing riotously through the open window. If I'm very energetic, I reach down to the foot of the bed and grab a cat to pet. In my desperate search for the meaning of life (which just so isn't 42), I frequently fall back on the idea that if there is no meaning and this is it, luxuriating in these moments of sensory perception is the only thing that makes the continuation of life possible. And perhaps these little moments of beauty are the meaning of life. There is certainly an overwhelming amount of hallmark evidence to support that theory.
Other than that, I think I'm finally starting to feel better. The whole liver thing, cold thing, brother being sick thing had consipired against that for a while. I keep going to see my witch doctor and he keeps tweaking my neural transmitters (among other things). Having your neural transmitters tweaked is like getting the world's greatest happy pill. Unfortunately, it only lasts for about a half a day. You wake up the next morning to find that your life is just as crappy as it was before only now it pisses you off more. *I just love when that happens*
The last couple of mornings have been hard to get out of bed. I huddle in the clean, white sheets and down comforter in the bluish light of dawn. Outside, the birds sing riotously through the open window. If I'm very energetic, I reach down to the foot of the bed and grab a cat to pet. In my desperate search for the meaning of life (which just so isn't 42), I frequently fall back on the idea that if there is no meaning and this is it, luxuriating in these moments of sensory perception is the only thing that makes the continuation of life possible. And perhaps these little moments of beauty are the meaning of life. There is certainly an overwhelming amount of hallmark evidence to support that theory.
