If only I had a window to gaze out of...

Remember when I spent the summer not sitting in a cubicle? Because I do, although those memories are currently being driven out of my brain by recently stored memories of staring at a laptop and some short, beige fabric-covered walls. Oh, and the one with the growing pool of blood on my desk from repeatedly smashing my forehead against it. That was a fun time. (thanks Excel! NOT)

New realities and overly-exaggerated stories aside, my blog is being ridiculous. And not in that good "hey we should be friends because you seem fun and exciting" way. More like "when I check my blog I'm always taken to that one post I wrote weeks ago and dont care reading again FOR THE BILLIONTH TIME." So if you happen to find yourself reading this particular shenanigan of a post instead of an older one that appears automatically, congrats. If not, I am currently sending you instructions telepathically to keep clicking the "2008" button under "Archives" until no new posts materialize. This should prove interesting though, considering my telepathic powers are usually limited to hearing Lassie go "Umm, Timmy's stuck in a well again. Instead of saving him, you should probably look into having another child. Just sayin."

Bloggateering has become somewhat of a respite from the workday for me during lunch. Nevermind that whole social interaction with co-workers and seeing sunlight business that the others do. No, I sit and read blogs and guffaw awkwardly in my cubicle and then make vain attempts at posting something partially comprehensible here. And then fail at life. Which actually isnt hard for me to do, considering I like to set high goals for myself along the lines of "Earn a salary of over $1,000,000 within the next several years" and "Learn how to read." I think "Become President of the US" was on that list at some time, but then I decided that a.) the presidential salary is too low, and b.) I'd probably have to talk to and/or interact with people in that job. And we all know how that turns out. (*awkward silence shuffle feet awkward silence*)

Here's a funny bit of a blog that I like to frequent whilst munching on baby carrots:

I had to buy this apricot-flavored toothpaste. Had to. When has there ever been fruit-flavored toothpaste, ever? And why not? Companies are forced to constantly “innovate” in order to stay relevant and exciting to consumers, so we get Giger-designed toothbrushes and glitter embedded in the toothpaste and tubes that stand on end — but where’s the flavor innovation?

I’m thinking the problem is that apricot doesn’t make your mouth minty fresh, and in today’s fast-paced modern hectic cutthroat world, Burning Mintiness = Violently Annihilated Halitosis. Apricot can’t deal with today’s fast-paced modern bacteria, no way. I mean, is an apricot even a full-fledged fruit? Is it even American?

I just bored myself with that paragraph. I’ve been doing that a lot in conversation, too, just slowing down mid-sentence and finally giving up, losing all interest in what I was saying and kind of drifting off. It’s like

Last paragraph: I SO DO THAT.