| Thursday, November 27, 2003 |
 | Ouch. One of my calves has pinged. Never try to run in Grensons. Always remember to change back into trainers before leaving the office.
Pondering, possibly in the wake of potential access of free time and maybe getting some sleep ever...what do I want?
Funny thing - I'm intellectually aware that, by current standards at least, my family used to be less than well off. But I never really noticed. I didn't get things I want, but then I accepted that children can't get everything they want. Schopenhauer for tinies. Looking back on it, what I did get is utterly terrifying - great mountains of plastic and metal, computers, forests of paper...it's enough to make you wake up screaming, thinking of your parents trying to balance the books with this rapacious midget in the corner, and resolve never to breed. And now, what do I want? First up, I want to buy everything, but that calms down after a bit, although not before I sold my beloved Visor Deluxe out for the Microsoft shilling. I suck. I got overexcited. I feel bad. But after that? And after that? And after that?
It's odd. All I really want to do is start to write again. Well, that and be fabulous. Just totally fabulous. But I'm not sure where I would even start...
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