A good sign?

Ryan writes, quoteth Google docs:

Title: Attention

Sorry, this document is too large to be saved in Google Docs. The limit is an HTML file size of 512KB.

Really? You're going to give me another obstacle? The NaNoWriMo gods are not with this one.

I need a diet coke pretty badly right now.

Thanks Ryan, you're the greatest.

Monday funday

The only way i'm going to finish this novel is if I write as much as possible at work without getting fired. Worst timing ever what with this failing economy and friends and family alike getting swiped by the lay off pendulum. I'm attempting to work better, which includes getting along with co-workers better. It's the latest in a series of begrudgingly accepted tasks (most of which have to do with either work or cleaning my house). Once in a while though Steve comes out with gems like "This is a pain in the Rumpus McDumpus", and things start looking plausible.

Another week!

Why does it feel like a Monday?

Maybe it's because I'm exhausted and I'm not entirely sure why. Maybe it's because for the next 9+ days, there seems to be something happening that requires careful planning with several parties involved. Maybe it's because I know I'll have to be back here in two short days, over half of which I'll be sleeping through (if all goes well). Maybe it's because I have to be writing every moment of my life from now until November 30th to catch up on my novel. Or maybe it's because I'm Irish.

Happy Friday.........?

A city's ruined reputation

Now I like to torture myself just as much as the next hapless individual, and part of this passive-aggressive self-suffering comes in the form of travel emails. Once in a while I'll get these ones entitled "Deals and Steals" that detail four or five travel packages that go from one city to another and are usually never relevant. Today's edition though featured an amazing offer for a "weekend escape" from Memphis to BOSTON. Now these things all have images next to each blurb showcasing each destinations luxuries, adventures, or sites to behold. A trip to Denver? Climb a snow covered mountain side against the backdrop of a crystal blue sky. Love Vegas? Soak up the night with the greatest light spectacle of any city. Hitting up New Orleans? Enjoy the old southern charm and warm hospitality in the region's great mansions. Or maybe Houston's your thing. Witness the magnificence of the universe itself and man's enduring quest of discovery at NASA's Johnson Space Center! Boston you say? Have some tea:



Really? This is what happens in Boston? You sit at some bullshit coffeehouse in late afternoon and dip a tea bag in some water? And whose glasses are those? Arsenio Hall's? Why are they translucent? Is it 1989? And what in holy hell do you need silverware for? You're drinking tea, you jerk. Give me a break. I'm getting a headache just thinking about how boring this is.

This is all incredibly unimportant. I have to go write 5000 words. BYE.

More unoriginal content

Hey.

I'm wishing a few things at the moment. They're all trivial, because honestly who needs anything deep and dramatic aside from emotional masochists?

Anyway, I wish I had come up with Garfield minus Garfield. Second, I wish I were Jim Davis and came up with Garfield, just so some other guy could come up with Garfield minus Garfield. I'm liking it almost as Calvin and Hobbes. The last is from the 13th, which is mildly baffling. Maybe the guy's on vacation. But really, this is one that I can't even picture that dumb orange cat being involved in in the first place. Maybe his ears are peeking above the window sill and he's making clever little quips about Jon's sorry state. Who cares. ERASE. But wait, what? He's standing in front of a window? That's comedy. But with a simple shift in interpretation, it turns to complete TRAGEDY: put Jon in front of a mirror for the first six frames and then consider the transition from frame six to seven a time jump, where in Jon actually then took the time to walk over to the window and just stands there, as if in light of his recent discoveries of a deteriorating body, he just can't bring himself to go outside. It's even more tragic when you put the last frame much later in the day, as if it were hours later and he still hasn't progressed at all, physically or mentally. Jon, how do I help you? What mistakes have you made in life that has made you this way? Why didn't you get a stupid cat at some point to make light of your situation enough for everyone including yourself to camouflage your manic depression as good natured silliness? More importantly, how do I not become you?

Well, so much for trivial.

Today calls for a medium roast.

To borrow a phrase: let's go to work.