Updated Every Monday, Wednesday and Friday

Monday, March 31, 2008

The Fog... in my brain (41 Days Remaining...)

I just can't seem to think today. My short term memory, hell, even my perception seems in this weird dreamlike state - somewhat washed out yet vivid. No, I'm not high - though the buzzing in my ears makes me wonder what was in those cookies I nabbed from the cafeteria.

It's funny how our bodies decide to work (or not) from one day to the next - like smushy hardware with its own temperment and hidden agenda. I used to get pissy at my computer as it'd bog to a crawl while trying to do too many things at once; what do I do when my brain - hell, time itself - seems to be taking a page from that ol' playbook?

Yesterday was a fart in the wind compared to today, I woke up, got dressed, ate breakfast and went to bed - or that's how it seemed. Today I just can't seem to get the hour to pass - I keep checking the little digital clock on my desktop and these last few hours of tedium have, in fact, only passed about 20 mins.

I've been trying to write, to make the time pass quicker, to hop over the walls of the maze in my head only to find that I've inadvertantly lined it with razorwire. Huh. Who knew?

There's a passive calm that surrounds me right now, the hum of my computer is actually lulling me into a sort of Beta-wave state... the world's just fading to white noise. And I've still got a good 2 or so hours to kill.

I got a callback from the job that I applied for oh so long ago, actually, two. I didn't post about the first interview because I wasn't sure which direction it went - the lady was exceedingly difficult to read. But today's interview, the second. That, well, that was a different kettle of fish. It went by with a sort of ease that I hadn't quite expected and by the time I knew it was over, well, almost a good hour had passed. It was more conversation than question period and the atmosphere was overtly positive. They're down to the final 5 (or so) and apparently I've managed to make a good impression.

Though perhaps the only potential sticking point is that, well, there's a good chance I'm overqualified for the position. Not in my eyes, mind you - I see it as a lateral move more than anything else, a re-potting in deeper soil, if you will. I'm not a huge fan of using things like 'growth' analogies but in this case, they're quite apt. Where I'm at right now I'm safe, cozy and, well, stunted. Where I want to be lies many different forms of potential in many different areas. It's got an exciting air to it, a change so sorely needed from the steady drum of normality that has become my life as of late.

Either way, the sense of change - that creeping sense of hope for something different - is a nice feeling and it's finding my way into my writing. It's been noticably more upbeat as of late and I can't help but ride the wave.

Maybe I'll finish that romantic comedy of mine...


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