days like today, when I am reminded of the fleeting and precious nature of life, I find myself wanting to disappear from work and use my time to do something that will be beneficial for my soul. Les Demoiselles de Saint-Cyr are mostly helping to underline the ache. the horrid black and beige colors in my office are made about a million times worse by the fluorescent lighting. they design these office buildings to stifle creativity, don’t they.


Will someone make this for me for Christmas, please?

I want this


My whole head itches this morning – not just eyes and nose, but also scalp and forehead and cheeks and eye lids. WTF.

Yesterday, I mentioned to my old boss that I want to go back to her department and she suggested I wait until next week to mention it to my current boss (it’s been a hectic week in the customer service world). She also speculated that they might ask me to stick it out another 2 months just so that I will have been in this position for six months, which sounds better than four months. I guess. We’ll see. I am just tired of dreading work, and tired of having to rally the energy necessary to sound like a confident sales rep when I make phone calls. I don’t know about other people, but donning that mask takes a lot of energy for me. I don’t want to disappoint my supervisors and such, but more than that I don’t want to be miserable at work.

It’s gotten so bad that — and I may have mentioned this — I have started looking back on the B&C days fondly. Yikes!

I feel like I have so many other skill sets that I could be tapping into here which would not involve cold-calling people and learning to manipulate them (the situation, what they say, etc) for my own gain. Which is probably a jaded way to look at sales, but I can’t seem to help it. I am not cut out for this. I would rather sit in a dark room and work by myself all day (I think anyway) than make cold calls.

HOWEVER! I realize that I am being paid to do a job, and so I need to do the job.

OK sorry, I’ll stop bitching about work now. Gah.

Shamelessly stole a design for a journal from Etsy and copied it the other night. I’m actually pretty pleased with the way it turned out, though 1) stiffer leather would have been nice to have, and 2) my leather dye is really old and gloppy so there are a few gloppy patches. But overall I’m a fan.

journal 1

journal 2

I guess that’s all I have to say right now.

note to self on movies

why is it that movies always paint misery and depression and dissatisfaction in a romantic light? almost every time, these are made to look poetic, meaningful, sometimes even beautiful in a sense – and (when I am not too enthralled with the movie to not notice) this has always seemed like a misleading, inaccurate, and unfair portrayal of life.

You might say that since we all experience pain and depression at some point during our lives, we all know that pain in real life does not feel like pain in the movies. That said, it’s also true that misery and dissatisfaction can be the most effective catalysts toward personal growth, so they are certainly not without a silver lining. Maybe, with this knowledge in mind, we try to make art less a representation of what real life actually feels like as it is happening, and more a representation of the bigger picture of pain and suffering in general. In that sense, it’s OK to paint a picture of pain as being cathartic and rewarding and beautiful – because these things can certainly come through pain.

So really, maybe my complaint should not be with movies; it should be with my interpretation of movies and my assumption that they should be like real life.

New goal: always go into movies expecting them to be extravagant works of art, not accurate portrayals of real life (or of books, for that matter).