That's not how it works

The problem with my life, on top of it being someone else's idea, is that I, the fruit of an idea, have no idea on how to run it. Also, I am not supposed talk much about it. I am beginning to realize that my life has been centering around pretty much work and the rules (spoken and unspoken) that comes with it for the past three years, and in honouring them I have been restricting and suppressing myself so much. I want to say no more, but.

Despite my painless effort of hoping for a cancellation earlier yesterday, I had one of my best days at work today. A certain one-day affair that repels many. By the grace of God I am able to list out the beverages I had prepared today: a glass of orange and pineapple mix and two glasses of coke zeros.    And, the people were lovely. My eyes are threatening to shut right now but I would really rather get my feelings out before I sleep tonight.

Yes I asked for this.

Four months ago I acquired two units of wardrobe, thinking it would solve all the problems I have in life. That's not meant to be a direct equation, but you get the point. For whatever reason I had the impression that finally, with this bold move, my life would turn around, my obstructions all gone. Except that they aren't. They are very much still around. In my wardrobe, in my head, on the table. In spite of that I am very much tempted to dedicate my next big solution to life to my future purchase of yet another iPhone. To be fair, I am at the point where I am constantly looking for things to be deleted in order to receive messages, in order for Charmeleon (current available storage: 56MB) to function healthily... for two years now.

Now that I'm putting these into words I can see that storage is a grand theme in my life's problems. Oh the clarity.

I suspect that I gather my thoughts and write better when I am... not happy (I really want to say angry, but I'm not particularly feeling it right now). Every time I try to put something up here I end up with something like this. I came back from Los Angeles last week and I had every intention to at least write about it here. You (/I) would expect road trips, Grand Canyon, Joshua Tree, downtown LA and all that. Except no. I went to this place called Eggslut. They make really good eggs. Which doesn't justify the name really but I am learning to accept.

I may come back more.