Somewhat saddened by my lack of writing, but rather crushed by my lack of reading. Or rather, lack of reading anything new; lately I’ve just been bummin’ off the assorted King and Clancy novels we have lying around. Though I now have a higher appreciation for free time because of work, so next chance (and paycheck) I get, I’ll go fish around Borders for something with a shiny cover.

Speaking of work, it’s been pretty decent. The people I work with a generally chill, the worst only being when they remember I’m new and whip out the good ol’ Patronizer 3000. Seriously, the whole balance-criticism-with-postive-reinforcement thing tires out quickly… it’s like handing me a cup of steaming urine topped with whipped cream. Just tell me what I’m doing wrong, please.

The only other real work annoyance is related to the fact that none of our windows have curtains. Because of this, at a certain time of day (let’s call this time “afternoon”) the earth, sun, and window above the front entrance line up to create a fiery deathbeam of light straight into my right pupil. As illustrated in this diagram.

But really, I dig the coffeehouse thing. Iz coo.

Breaking away from real life and into idealism, I need to comment on the whining public. Be it about work, love’s mishaps, “drama” (a.k.a. teenage dumbfuckery), or whatnot, from the age of thirteen we learn to complain. Wahh! And just as bad, around the age of twenty-three, we begin to graciously accept all the bullshit that life shovels onto us, or at least hold our noses and walk around it. Some people will criticize their surroundings right into the grave, and others will start the morose acceptance phase sometime in junior high as a way of garnering attention; with equal glee I would give either a running punt to the groin.

Anyway, I’m mainly lashing out against the apathetic criticism I see abound, evolving into little more than full blown apathy. What I’m saying is: ride the edge. Complain all you want, but dammit, do something about it.

Well geez, Charlie, what the hell are you doing about it?

I sat down and wrote this bloated ramble! What, wanna fight? Eh? EH?