Alright, not really. But I am completely blogged out. I thought not having a job was going to seriously make my blog like the champagne of blogs, but I've come to realize that being relaxed and happy is terrible for my art. I've lost my muse. I need to be miserable again.
To that end, I went back to work today. I achieved my simple dream of a job in the Loop, an hour lunch, and casual Fridays. I was back on the ol '60 this morning and I think everyone was glad to have me back. Except the hot guy who gets the bus in Little Italy. Tomorrow I'm going to push my way to him, throw his Wall Street Journal to the ground, and scream "WHY WON'T YOU LOVE ME?"
What, too much? Hey, at least I'll get a blog out of it.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
Are you nuts? Don't scream at him. Just rub up against him when you get the chance. That'll send a message.
Tortured artists stop being artists when the torture ends and the Care Bears show up to give them candy canes, blow jobs, and choral serenades.
Makes for poor bloggery, I say.
Post a Comment