Tuesday, February 10, 2009

On Ennui and Secrets

I finished work within two hours upon my arrival, basically accomplishing the entire project slated for the next two weeks. Not to mention, I'll have to commit extra hours in the office within the week in order to avoid a shed in my pay once the salary kicks in my account. All in all, lovely times are abound (note the tinge of sarcasm here).

And so here I am with this quaint blog entry.

Boredom can lead you to do conventional things in hopes of confusing them as productivity. Like registering for a Facebook account. Not my cup of tea, but hey, I'm all for hastening my stay in the office. Or so I thought.

I just read the Civil War Chronicles, which I have been clamoring to do since last year, and it did provide an ample distraction from the problem of idleness I have in my hands. However, the series reminded me of my shot desire to pursue a comic book collection, leaving me faintly depressed and frustrated. Screw comics.

My co-workers and I held a photoshoot for this pilot presentation to be submitted to a potential client. The proceedings went well, but the photos exposed the blemishes and scars on my face as a result of popping and pricking those annoying pimples. Not really a problem, until the pictures underwent editing process and the guys have to clean out the fuck marks using Photoshoot. I keep overhearing laughter from their side of the office at the expense of these awful marks on my face. It's fine. Whatever makes them happy.

The real whammy of this whole ennui thing is this sinking and isolated feeling that, well, let's just say that this past weekend was awesome, nay, glorious (save for that Marley & Me tryst that I will never commit again), and seemed to have recalled the beautiful sense of purpose I have been living for the past year. However, this week has twisted back purpose to its harsh form caused by external forces beyond my facilities. There goes the rub.
Thus said boredom.


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