![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Morning already?
Wednesday, March 22nd, 2006 08:16 amUrgh...
Where did last night go? [yawn].
Where did last night go? [yawn].
Wednesday, March 22nd, 2006
Fancy that
Wednesday, March 22nd, 2006 12:39 pmI should be working, I really should; I have a lot to get through.
However, I have just discovered that a job that I thought would be really rather easy is going to be a bit of a bugger, so I have decided to write here for a couple of minutes in frustrated petulance. I do not have much to say right now, you understand, but I have committed myself to some moments industrial strength time wasting, and I am damned if I am going to waste that time wasting by doodling or reading the paper when I could be doing this. It’s a matter of pride, see.
This is the awkward bit in not having anything to write about. I’ve already told you all the salient background to the entry, which means that I am now thrown back upon my own devices to fill out space. This is rather disconcerting, rather like the embarrassing gaps in conversation you get when you unexpectedly meet people you weren’t expecting, and can’t think of anything at all to break the ice.
Quite why that should be, I don’t know; it’s not as if we haven’t all had those moments of exasperated quietude which drops the whole world but yourself into bullet time, and stretches a minute out into a length of time that would make even the controller of the Northern Line blanch.
For some reason, the internet connection here in the office has been glacially slow these past few days and it is like being back on dial up, but without the comforting twitter of the modem.
Today is![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
immerwahr’s birthday, though his actual age is a mystery, I expect him to be substantially younger than the average trilobite. It may be of comfort to know that he shares this day with Marcel Marceau (83), George Benson (63), Lord Lloyd-Webber (58) and, perhaps most impressively, William Shatner (75).
I have failed to come up with any witty comment about these people all sharing the same birthday, so I shall now return to what I was doing safe in the knowledge that I have wasted time to great effect.
However, I have just discovered that a job that I thought would be really rather easy is going to be a bit of a bugger, so I have decided to write here for a couple of minutes in frustrated petulance. I do not have much to say right now, you understand, but I have committed myself to some moments industrial strength time wasting, and I am damned if I am going to waste that time wasting by doodling or reading the paper when I could be doing this. It’s a matter of pride, see.
This is the awkward bit in not having anything to write about. I’ve already told you all the salient background to the entry, which means that I am now thrown back upon my own devices to fill out space. This is rather disconcerting, rather like the embarrassing gaps in conversation you get when you unexpectedly meet people you weren’t expecting, and can’t think of anything at all to break the ice.
Quite why that should be, I don’t know; it’s not as if we haven’t all had those moments of exasperated quietude which drops the whole world but yourself into bullet time, and stretches a minute out into a length of time that would make even the controller of the Northern Line blanch.
For some reason, the internet connection here in the office has been glacially slow these past few days and it is like being back on dial up, but without the comforting twitter of the modem.
Today is
immerwahr’s birthday, though his actual age is a mystery, I expect him to be substantially younger than the average trilobite. It may be of comfort to know that he shares this day with Marcel Marceau (83), George Benson (63), Lord Lloyd-Webber (58) and, perhaps most impressively, William Shatner (75). I have failed to come up with any witty comment about these people all sharing the same birthday, so I shall now return to what I was doing safe in the knowledge that I have wasted time to great effect.
Fancy that
Wednesday, March 22nd, 2006 12:39 pmI should be working, I really should; I have a lot to get through.
However, I have just discovered that a job that I thought would be really rather easy is going to be a bit of a bugger, so I have decided to write here for a couple of minutes in frustrated petulance. I do not have much to say right now, you understand, but I have committed myself to some moments industrial strength time wasting, and I am damned if I am going to waste that time wasting by doodling or reading the paper when I could be doing this. It’s a matter of pride, see.
This is the awkward bit in not having anything to write about. I’ve already told you all the salient background to the entry, which means that I am now thrown back upon my own devices to fill out space. This is rather disconcerting, rather like the embarrassing gaps in conversation you get when you unexpectedly meet people you weren’t expecting, and can’t think of anything at all to break the ice.
Quite why that should be, I don’t know; it’s not as if we haven’t all had those moments of exasperated quietude which drops the whole world but yourself into bullet time, and stretches a minute out into a length of time that would make even the controller of the Northern Line blanch.
For some reason, the internet connection here in the office has been glacially slow these past few days and it is like being back on dial up, but without the comforting twitter of the modem.
Today isimmerwahr’s birthday, though his actual age is a mystery, I expect him to be substantially younger than the average trilobite. It may be of comfort to know that he shares this day with Marcel Marceau (83), George Benson (63), Lord Lloyd-Webber (58) and, perhaps most impressively, William Shatner (75).
I have failed to come up with any witty comment about these people all sharing the same birthday, so I shall now return to what I was doing safe in the knowledge that I have wasted time to great effect.
However, I have just discovered that a job that I thought would be really rather easy is going to be a bit of a bugger, so I have decided to write here for a couple of minutes in frustrated petulance. I do not have much to say right now, you understand, but I have committed myself to some moments industrial strength time wasting, and I am damned if I am going to waste that time wasting by doodling or reading the paper when I could be doing this. It’s a matter of pride, see.
This is the awkward bit in not having anything to write about. I’ve already told you all the salient background to the entry, which means that I am now thrown back upon my own devices to fill out space. This is rather disconcerting, rather like the embarrassing gaps in conversation you get when you unexpectedly meet people you weren’t expecting, and can’t think of anything at all to break the ice.
Quite why that should be, I don’t know; it’s not as if we haven’t all had those moments of exasperated quietude which drops the whole world but yourself into bullet time, and stretches a minute out into a length of time that would make even the controller of the Northern Line blanch.
For some reason, the internet connection here in the office has been glacially slow these past few days and it is like being back on dial up, but without the comforting twitter of the modem.
Today is
immerwahr’s birthday, though his actual age is a mystery, I expect him to be substantially younger than the average trilobite. It may be of comfort to know that he shares this day with Marcel Marceau (83), George Benson (63), Lord Lloyd-Webber (58) and, perhaps most impressively, William Shatner (75). I have failed to come up with any witty comment about these people all sharing the same birthday, so I shall now return to what I was doing safe in the knowledge that I have wasted time to great effect.