I Think There Must Be a Duck in Here.

Well, Matt Smith. I'm back. (Were you worried?)

This past Sunday, a group of us went out to see a matinee and got some dinner. At Piper's Pub, I had a fight with a Kleenex and lost. While I was de-snotting, Melissa looked at me from across the table and said, "You've been sick for, like, a month."
I nodded, my mouth being occupied by tissue, snot, and disgust. "You work too much," she said.

Well, that's a keen observation. (Notice she said "too much," not "too hard." There's a fine line.) I do. I work too much. But really, I think we all work too much. And it's boring work we do. It's coffee and papers and writing and being someone you're not after you get done with work. It's 50-minute hours and 30-minute lunches and 10-minute breaks and sneaking cigarettes out on the stoop. And we're dull at work.

If you're lucky enough to be an interesting person both at work and at play, then bully for you. I'd like to be one of those people. Sometimes I'm even boring at home. Like -- oh, I don't know -- right now for example. I can't even keep myself interested in what I'm writing.

I'm not sure what my point is here. My nose has been bleeding recently and I think the loss of blood has affected my thinking. I'm also eating baked beans, and I think my system has gone into shock.

On the other hand, sometimes boring work pays off. I guess some of my groaning over the past few months got me somewhere -- I got accepted to Emerson. I'm playing the waiting game for BU and NYU. I'll probably have some real decisions to make in the next few months. I'm not thinking about them quite yet. I'm eating baked beans instead.

In conclusion, I didn't even know they'd made a "Lethal Weapon 4." Wow.

Itchy and scratchy,
Meredith