(no subject)
Feb. 21st, 2002 10:40 pmI'm tired. Which makes sense, it being 10:30. I've been sitting down to write tonight, and in between procrastination and plain scatterbrainedness, I've done maybe 500 words. Feh.
I want a drink and to relax. This thing is taking bites out of my life. I'm gonna die at 30.
Christ. I went to friggin' Journalism school. Deadlines? I MOCK deadlines! So why is it I'm suddenly constipated? I keep wanting to write something ELSE (Bitter Guides, this, reviews), and I feel guilty about it.
Christ! People do this for a living? I'm going insane!
I want a drink and to relax. This thing is taking bites out of my life. I'm gonna die at 30.
Christ. I went to friggin' Journalism school. Deadlines? I MOCK deadlines! So why is it I'm suddenly constipated? I keep wanting to write something ELSE (Bitter Guides, this, reviews), and I feel guilty about it.
Christ! People do this for a living? I'm going insane!