Thursday, January 6

atrophy

Perhaps it is safe to write in this blog now. I haven't written in it in ages, which should mean that:

a) anyone who knows about it has forgotten its existence,
b) if I end up writing in it regularly I'll have to go through a bunch of awkward, back from hiatus entries before finding my voice again,
c) my typing skills are probably wonky since I don't talk to anyone online but Dan and I haven't typed any writings of mine since the end of the semester,
d) because of the previous three conclusions, it's probably best if I just save myself the trouble of pressing the shift key.

In the time that I have been home from school, I have celebrated numerous holidays, found myself a religion, been deeply insulted, been deeply annoyed, cried for no reason, cried for some reason, failed to become a superhero, and been entranced by many persons, places, and things of, in, or related to Scotland.

More importantly, (and i'm going to sound like I'm some new age hippie or a person easily swayed by the lure of trendy weight loss programs and Methods of Living a Beneficial Life) I have realized that I have two major paths I could take in my life. One is glamorous to someone who relishes quirkiness and obscurity and can embrace hermitdom with a dose of fantasy. The other is typical yet comfortable, but will probably always be missing something. Either way, I have to work sometime. *sigh* I am the laziest person I know, and that can't be changed. Changing is moving, moving is working, and working is the antithesis of laziness. Change is impossible for the hopelessly lazy.

On the bright side, it's nice to know that Tony Danza exists. Don't ask, (not that you can, you non-existent reader, you) because I am sick of typing. Hmmm, whatever happened to not using the shift key? Next time.

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