The Deadpan Hurricane will be taking a brief hiatus while I go to California for the next week. I might post something while I am there, but I think that California might be lacking in access to the appropriate technology. Try not to be mad...I still love you. It's not you, really. It's me. I just need some space. Some time to think. You're suffocating me a little. Sometimes I just need some time to myself, so don't make this about you. I will be back to love on you next year, on January 6, 2003.
Okay, you're right, I should make this last post good. Really good. Something you'll be satisfied with for a week. The problem is, I will never live up to your expectations. I'm really a very disappointing person. I just do what I was going to do anyway, regardless of what you want or need. You should just learn to accept that about me. Sure, I might feel badly. I might even stress out about it for a day or two, but it's not going to keep me from not doing what you want.
I mean, if you wanted something special today, you should have told me in advance. I could have planned to do something really cool. But now it's too late. It's already 9:00 and I'll have to actually start working soon. I've already got nine things on my list of work-things to do today, and I'd like to finish them up early so I can spend the bulk of the day searching the internet for more signs of good writing. You can't just make these requests for creative inspiration at the last minute. Sure I'm creative. And sure my weekly affirmation I wrote for this week is all on about how I am an abundant well of brilliant ideas spilling out onto paper, but COME ON. I mean, I'm an artist people. An artist of words. Picasso didn't paint that picture of the old blue guy playing the guitar in a day. Or maybe he did...I don't really know much about his work habits. The point is, I'm not a painter. And also I'm a girl. And I'm alive now. I'm not a dead guy like Picasso. And I've got feelings too, you know.
So I'm sorry that I've disappointed you, again, but maybe you should rethink your expectations. You'll get hurt less that way.
Oh, and happy friggin New Year.
Okay, you're right, I should make this last post good. Really good. Something you'll be satisfied with for a week. The problem is, I will never live up to your expectations. I'm really a very disappointing person. I just do what I was going to do anyway, regardless of what you want or need. You should just learn to accept that about me. Sure, I might feel badly. I might even stress out about it for a day or two, but it's not going to keep me from not doing what you want.
I mean, if you wanted something special today, you should have told me in advance. I could have planned to do something really cool. But now it's too late. It's already 9:00 and I'll have to actually start working soon. I've already got nine things on my list of work-things to do today, and I'd like to finish them up early so I can spend the bulk of the day searching the internet for more signs of good writing. You can't just make these requests for creative inspiration at the last minute. Sure I'm creative. And sure my weekly affirmation I wrote for this week is all on about how I am an abundant well of brilliant ideas spilling out onto paper, but COME ON. I mean, I'm an artist people. An artist of words. Picasso didn't paint that picture of the old blue guy playing the guitar in a day. Or maybe he did...I don't really know much about his work habits. The point is, I'm not a painter. And also I'm a girl. And I'm alive now. I'm not a dead guy like Picasso. And I've got feelings too, you know.
So I'm sorry that I've disappointed you, again, but maybe you should rethink your expectations. You'll get hurt less that way.
Oh, and happy friggin New Year.
Alana wrote this crap at
6:43 AM
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