Rain

Rain freezing
Freezing rain
Soft then sad and weeping
Thrashing here
Drizzle there
Color gray it's keeping



There should be more...but I suck at writing.

Nothing to Say

Zip, zero, nada...yeah, I got nothin' at all to say. My brain is so dry right now, I pondered extolling the virtues of Eclipse gum (it's tasty, refreshing, makes my breath all tingly and cold, and clears my sinuses). I briefly contemplated writing about how my lace scarf is coming along, but really it's just longer than it was before, so there's nothing of interest there. I thought I might mention something about work (as a complete last resort), but alas, nothing interesting happened today. It's impractical to go out and do anything to later write about because it's entirely too cold to go out tonight (and it's Monday...what can possibly be interesting on a freakin' Monday). The things I can easily write about are either non-existent or I can't make mention of them, therefore rendering them as good as non-existent. Grrr...I hate having nothing to write about.

Not Much To Say

What sucks about right now (besides the obvious things that always suck for most people) is that I haven't had a whole lot to say lately. And when I do find something to say, it's when I'm not in a position to write about it, usually at work or some other place where there isn't a computer for me to get my hands on. Poop!

Soup is Good Food

Doc will tell me that I need to put a different CD in my car stereo because I've been listening to the Dead Kennedys' Frankenchrist album too much. I can't help it, it's good fun for the whole family; that is if the family has a lot of contempt for the conservative socio-political culture of the mid-1980s. If not, I suppose it's less family fun and more Minxy-driving-to-work fun.

Speaking of work, I'm currently debating whether or not to go for this full-time position at my current place of employment. Sure, it would be more money and responsibility, and I'm very, very qualified for it, but I also fear rejection, especially if it's paired with being told that I'm not good or experienced enough for the position when I know full well that I am. Hence, the debate. Poop.

I just finished reading one of Dooce's recent posts, which linked to one of her posts at another site. They were about the rise and subsequent fall of Britney Spears. Dooce was brave and opened comments and I wrote a somewhat lengthy one right before this. Now, I have no interest in talking about Britney Spears' current life situation (since I did that already ad nauseum), but I do have a couple of things to say about my own comment. Sometimes, I'll re-read something I wrote and I'll think to myself: Did I just write that? Did I really just express that thought so well that I didn't even realize that it was in my head that way? Seriously, sometimes I amaze myself with my own words...in a good way, that is. Of course, there are more times where I amaze myself with the lack of coolness in my writing, kind of like now. I think I used up all my god writing on a site that's not even my own. Again, I say poop.