Leaky Turnip

Uuuuggggghhhhh.

Lately it feels as though my brain has been replaced with some kind of overripe turnip. Ineffectual, overtaxed, and beginning to smell a bit as a frothy juice dribbles out of my ear. Needless to say, I haven't been able to write much lately.

I wouldn't call it "writer's block," really. It's more like "writer's lack of creative energy." I have stories, I know where I want them to go, I know what to write next. But as soon as I sit down, the only thing that comes to my mind is, "Yeah, fuck this," and I go lay down and try to catch up on the missed hours of sleep from the night before.

Now, what I need to do is find a new job. ow my official title is office bitch at an office in which a real queen bitch resides on her throne of malcontentedness, reeking of disapproval and stale cigarettes.

I recently read an article titled, "6 Signs That Show You Need To Change Your Career" or something verbose like that, and I swear I achieved each sign with flying colors. Searching for a new job while at work, not making enough, etc. But can I quit?! No ¬¬ Why, you ask? No, of course you don't ask, because we're in a recession and I should count myself lucky enough to have a job in the first place. But I truly do loathe it here and can think of a multitude of other things that i'd rather be wasting my time at, including working at a McDonald's. Seriously, I can't eat there so I don't see the problem. Start me up front, gimme a bucket, I don't care. At least there will be some mild level of interaction that I can delve into instead of vegetating slowly into my seat, mind numb with the anticipation of the day that God shines a merciful glance my way and vaporizes me out of my mortal existence. And I hope He does it right in the middle of my invoicing. That'd show the queen bitch.

Bah, the turnip is starting to leak again, I'll continue this wonderful rant later.