Boredom, Boredom, Boredom

I'm bored. I am CONSUMED with ennui.

I have half an hour to kill before going off to meet Catty for Messican food, then I'm going to Sonic Cathedrals to gaze at the beautiful shoegazer boys. Swoon. I've worn my best stripey shirt and everything. But right now I am bouncing off the walls, beating my head against the desk in frustration at what passes for "documentation" in this company.

People ask for reports, my job is to find the information, code the reports, set them up - but people ask for the VAGUEST things. So I wrote out this whole form asking exactly what they wanted. So what do they do? They type out the vague random nonsense in the "description" box, fill out nothing else, and pass it back to me.

Today I want to quit my job and become a painter because Rex Whistler looked so pretty in the article about him in Country Life. Apparently, he was the inspiration for Charles Ryder in Brideshead Revisted. He certainly inspired me to paint murals on my walls.

I'm having a cranky day WRT the band. The spectre of record companies and dealing with them rears its ugly head. I had such bad experiences in The Lollies that I'm gunshy. But we've been asked to be on a couple of compilations, which is good. Good things are happening, it's just hard for me to get as excited about it as I probably should, because of the feeling of "here we go again, none of this will actually happen." Ooh, negativity.

The Girls are getting together without me tonight, to come up with dance routines. I am excused dancing, on account of my having to play guitar, which is an immense relief, as I'm a rubbish dancer. (n.b. this refers to actual, proper, synchronised and choreographed dance routines - I'm a GRATE dancer when I'm drunk and cutting loose on the dancer floor, but who isn't?) I feel a bit funny, though, like I'm being left out of the fun. Especially with the random floating fits of paranoia about detachment and alientation and OH NO, THEY ALL HAAAAATE ME OH NO. But really. I think I would only find it frustrating.

Trying to discourage myself from developping an inconvenient IRL crush. Which is kind of counter-productive, because the problem with trying not to develop a crush by telling yourself all the problems and reasons it wouldn't work out only makes it seem DOOMED and ROMANTIC and MORE APPEALING. I just wish it would go away. Or something.