Sunday, June 07, 2009
Excuses, Excuses
So it's been four days since my last post for a variety of reasons. The primary reason is probably that I've been really busy with work, which not only saps my time but depletes my supply of blogworthy stories. Somehow posts about my kickass doc review skills or that hilarious deponent who really didn't want to answer any of my questions just don't seem that entertaining. Beyond that, though, I've just sort of lacked the inclination. Could it be that I no longer feel every minute detail of my life is worth dissecting at length for the entire world (or, more properly, about 25 people a day) to read? I mean, encounters with weirdos on the train and awkward social situations that mere months ago would have prompted a six paragraph entry are now going entirely unmemorialized.
I think the truth of it is that I'm just tired. And as a result rather inarticulate. When you spend as much of your work time as I do coming up with exciting new ways to tell people to fuck off, I think your creativity gets sapped somewhat.
But I am going to New York for work tomorrow, and if that doesn't inspire some grand stories of rampaging 15-year-olds and Asian women on airplanes, I don't know what's wrong with the world. And maybe I'll have an insane concierge or something, who knows?
So it's been four days since my last post for a variety of reasons. The primary reason is probably that I've been really busy with work, which not only saps my time but depletes my supply of blogworthy stories. Somehow posts about my kickass doc review skills or that hilarious deponent who really didn't want to answer any of my questions just don't seem that entertaining. Beyond that, though, I've just sort of lacked the inclination. Could it be that I no longer feel every minute detail of my life is worth dissecting at length for the entire world (or, more properly, about 25 people a day) to read? I mean, encounters with weirdos on the train and awkward social situations that mere months ago would have prompted a six paragraph entry are now going entirely unmemorialized.
I think the truth of it is that I'm just tired. And as a result rather inarticulate. When you spend as much of your work time as I do coming up with exciting new ways to tell people to fuck off, I think your creativity gets sapped somewhat.
But I am going to New York for work tomorrow, and if that doesn't inspire some grand stories of rampaging 15-year-olds and Asian women on airplanes, I don't know what's wrong with the world. And maybe I'll have an insane concierge or something, who knows?
