Wednesday. Another day at work. Another fucking day at work. Grandiose, fucking Wednesday. What's wrong with Wednesdays? Nothing, it's just that it's another day at work. Ah man, I used to like this job. Somewhere deep inside my soul I'm sure I still do, but not today. Today it feels like the greatest waste of time since Arabella Kiesbauer.
Trying to think positive is difficult. Once you're there, it's easy. It's the best. But the trying part is exhausting. I tried all the things that usually put me in a better state of mind, like a good film (The Talented Mr. Ripley), but all it did was make me think I should start learning how to lie like a motherfucker and steal someone else's identity for a while.
Another trick is to watch skateboard videos (like Mouse, Trilogy or Modus), but they were merely a quick fix that took me back in time when I started skating. For the fun of it. Riding, pushing, sliding, jazz! Similar with reading. I tried an interesting article by a contemporary philosopher from Slovenia. I enjoyed his east-european accent for a while, then I turned it off.
Wednesday. The hours are moving slowly. Other work is breathing down my neck, but I have trouble concentrating. I can't just switch it on and off, it doesn't work that way. Thoughts enter my mind, random thoughts, in no order and no direction: stomach pain, kickflip nosemanny, pepperoni pizza, soul train, overseas vacation, kinetic sand, silence.
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