Today I had a hard time at work, running around the lab armed with pipettes, test tubes, smelly/harmful/disgusting chemicals and whatnot, wishing that I was elsewhere. The only way this recession is affecting me, is how it is making job-hunting a hundred times harder. No, make that a thousand to the power of ten.
It is so hard to get inspired lately. Rose-tinted glass, I do not have. Does cynicism come with age? Not to say that I don’t try.
Maybe I stopped writing journals for too long. Now the fluidity of my thoughts have practically dwindled to nothingness and trying to eke out some decent writing is like squeezing water out of a rock. This is a long climb up indeed.
Impromptu Bangkok trip did not materialise. Perhaps it is time to throw my backpack back into the storeroom and start contemplating my existence harder. Nothing describes my feeling more aptly than this: