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missfrostOh wow! I just saw a fox outside the office. It even tried to follow me through the door! That’s made my day.
Why does my journal not contain pages of emotional angst, you may ask. (Trust me, someone did.) Well lets get this all over with now and leave it then. *stands up* My name is Rhoda and I am a manic depressive. *Applause. Sits down*
But I deal with it. I cope with it. I am a manic depressive the way some people who have not touched a drink in ten years will call themselves an alcoholic. Because the potential is still there. I can count on one hand the number of people who have seen me in full b.a.d. mode, and that’s the way I like to keep it. In fact that’s too many. I deal with it by total hibernation, behind closed doors. I can cry whinge and moan for twenty four hours solid and then get on with it.
You will not see that on here. So yes there is emotion under this cold exterior *cackles* but I just don’t do excessive public emotion. That is the real me. Perhaps I like to appear shallow while having a turbulent interior. Or whatever. I will no doubt bitch on here and get angry at other people (well I already have!) and I will randomly laugh at my own sense of humour now and then, but excessive personal stuff will not be making an appearance. If it does, please call Carine or my office and get them to drag me away from the pc.
Why do I have a journal then? Why not. Everyone should. I like rambling every now and then. I’m not particularly bothered who reads it, although I know people I don’t particularly like do. And people who don’t particularly like me. These tend to be the same people. I find it saves time to not bother liking people who don’t like you. That sounds horrendously egotistical doesn’t it? I mean generally, if you sense someone doesn’t like you it’s usually mutual, and therefore not worth worrying about!
I digress. The point is that I journal for the hell of it. I have no fantastic ideologies or life plans to impart. This is just the erratic bits and pieces that occur to me while I’m sitting here.
Anyway. I found a text-only cow tipping game last night. Quite by accident. I doubt anyone else will find this funny but I did. Go here for cow, kangaroo, and indeed text-only-cow tipping fun.
(*my current screen saver at work)
Why does my journal not contain pages of emotional angst, you may ask. (Trust me, someone did.) Well lets get this all over with now and leave it then. *stands up* My name is Rhoda and I am a manic depressive. *Applause. Sits down*
But I deal with it. I cope with it. I am a manic depressive the way some people who have not touched a drink in ten years will call themselves an alcoholic. Because the potential is still there. I can count on one hand the number of people who have seen me in full b.a.d. mode, and that’s the way I like to keep it. In fact that’s too many. I deal with it by total hibernation, behind closed doors. I can cry whinge and moan for twenty four hours solid and then get on with it.
You will not see that on here. So yes there is emotion under this cold exterior *cackles* but I just don’t do excessive public emotion. That is the real me. Perhaps I like to appear shallow while having a turbulent interior. Or whatever. I will no doubt bitch on here and get angry at other people (well I already have!) and I will randomly laugh at my own sense of humour now and then, but excessive personal stuff will not be making an appearance. If it does, please call Carine or my office and get them to drag me away from the pc.
Why do I have a journal then? Why not. Everyone should. I like rambling every now and then. I’m not particularly bothered who reads it, although I know people I don’t particularly like do. And people who don’t particularly like me. These tend to be the same people. I find it saves time to not bother liking people who don’t like you. That sounds horrendously egotistical doesn’t it? I mean generally, if you sense someone doesn’t like you it’s usually mutual, and therefore not worth worrying about!
I digress. The point is that I journal for the hell of it. I have no fantastic ideologies or life plans to impart. This is just the erratic bits and pieces that occur to me while I’m sitting here.
Anyway. I found a text-only cow tipping game last night. Quite by accident. I doubt anyone else will find this funny but I did. Go here for cow, kangaroo, and indeed text-only-cow tipping fun.
(*my current screen saver at work)
