... but I stopped. Now I'm a dad, and may blog again...

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

180: my polymorphic proboscis

Say what you see.  Write about what you know about.  Return to first principles.  OK, well, my laptop is making a racket again.  A couple of months back I completed the laborious task of dismantling (and re-mantling) the whole thing just to clean out a few specks of dusty-fluff and fluffy-dust from the fan.  It instantly became quiet as a fluff-fall, but now I can hear it whirring aggressively from the other side of the flat even with the door shut.  Perhaps instead of gently unscrewing all the components and neatly laying them down on sheets of paper, I should just smash a hole in the back and suck the dust out with my polymorphic proboscis, or dash it to itty-bitty-smithers and hoick  it out the window.  If only the idiots at HP could have just designed a simple panel into the back none of this would be necessary.  I honestly thought design was supposed to make things better and things generally improved accumulatively over time.

So I was saying what I see, not what I hear and at the moment all I see is that last paragraph.  I decided to change the layout of the blog as it felt like I needed a change.  I can’t really tell if this is an improvement (‘shock of the new’ and all that), but I certainly find it preferable to the old look.  Change is good (I’ll keep telling myself), change is good.  But the doctor tells me I have to live as a woman before the ethics board will approve the op needed for the change.  Or whatever.  So I hear a fan, see words, a new layout and a bad sex-change joke.  I also feel tired, thirsty and sneeze, optimistic for the future, and yet worried about how to pay next month’s rent.

Here’s an original thought; wouldn’t it be good if work did itself.  Like if I was a writer I could just create a word document, give it a name, close the document and go to sleep.  When I woke up in the morning the file was mysterious full of original and sparkling story matching the title.  Or if I was a shoemaker I could just leave a load of leather lying around and when I woke after a restful night, hey presto, freshly baked shoes!  Almost as though elves or fairies had been in and worked their nimble little magicks all over the place.  What an original thought.  Maybe I’ll write a story about it.  Or failing that create a word document and hope it fills itself.  Although I have tried that a few times already, and so far it doesn’t seem to be working.  Perhaps if I keep repeating the same mistakes I’ll eventually get a different outcome.  Never mind.

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