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it occurs to me that i'm a workaholic. not in any kind of actual work way, no, not me. instead, i cram my life so full of hobbies, half-finished projects, and possibly lucrative sidelines that there's never a dull moment. and, frighteningly enough, that's the only way i know how to be happy.
i guess this isn't either a good or bad thing; it's just something i do to keep myself entertained, being the relatively solitary creature that i am. sociability is overrated, something that afflicts others but is rarely seen in my general vicinity. instead, i huddle in the back room of my apartment, cooing over my computer and patting my stacks of papers for reassurance (okay, maybe i'm not THAT bad, but still. sometimes i scare myself).
you people don't write enough. what else am i supposed to do at work to keep myself occupied? yarg.
i guess this isn't either a good or bad thing; it's just something i do to keep myself entertained, being the relatively solitary creature that i am. sociability is overrated, something that afflicts others but is rarely seen in my general vicinity. instead, i huddle in the back room of my apartment, cooing over my computer and patting my stacks of papers for reassurance (okay, maybe i'm not THAT bad, but still. sometimes i scare myself).
you people don't write enough. what else am i supposed to do at work to keep myself occupied? yarg.
