Unintelligentsia

Bored as fuuuuuukkkk.

I wish I was in front of my computer the moment inspiration strikes. It comes quickly and unexpectedly. A sudden desire to shout something at the world. But it passes quickly also. Lost in the ennui of the day to day. Nullified out by some opposing outrage, like two tidal forces canceling each other out.

The other day I was watching CNBC and some idiot mouthpiece made a comment about the economy, that I can’t even recall now but at the time it made me furious, and before I could sit at my computer and hammer out an article about my theory on “age based communism”, I decided to make a cup of tea, then Charlie Rose came on, then I thought I saw a naked breast on Google news, and the article I was going to write was finished before it ever began.

I’m home all day thinking of interesting things to write about, and not doing a damn thing about it. This excitable and fairly creative mind of mine is the force that allows me to come up with all this dumb shit, and it is the same force that prevents me from doing anything productive about it. And now I am writing about not writing. I’ve become a monster!

Although, I recently, as in, five seconds ago, took a huge leap forward when I finally figured out how to disable my laptops touchpad in Vista. That will at least lower the frustration level when trying to type down to “Elevated: Significant Risk of Irritation”.