Ok, forcing yourself to write is not fun, but I am determined to get back into my old routine of writing. It is my way of defragging my mind, but I don't do it often enough.

 

Number one today:

 

I need to work on my yearbook pages! I have still got about three pages to do, but I have no ambition to actually work on them because we still don't have a deadline. I get nothing done without pressure.

 

I do not buy yearbooks, at least I haven't yet. I suppose this connects to me never taking pictures either. I don't know why but photos mean very little to me. I never remember to pass out my head shots at school either. Perhaps the reason I hate photography is because it is so realistic. You click the button, chemical reactions occur and moments of your life are recorded on film. Once you develop that film your memories of those moments look just like the photos you see. How depressing is that? I love to romanticize my past and experiences. In my mind's eye I can blur the edges of reality or exaggerate the world I saw. Photos are real, actual, and deflate my imagination. I do not really see this relationship in my mind as good or bad (which is a label that seems to have to be applied to so much of life). I just don't enjoy photos...or yearbooks.

 

Number two

 

Read. One word people: READ! Just go do it.

 

Now as you sit there reading the bold type you may be saying, "Well Meg I'm reading your blog right now, isn't that enough?"

 

While I could say yes because my writing is so fabulous that it counts among the greats of classic literature, the answer is no.

 

I just got back into my old swing of reading books for fun. This year I tapered off from reading books and just read news online, news magazines, newspapers...etc. You get the picture. So I swore to myself at the beginning of the summer I would read at least one book. I am on book number three right now. AND I FEEL FANTASTIC! I forgot how much I love stories and spacing out, how much I enjoy suspending my disbelief and falling in love with the characters.

 

Books are just kick ass. So everyone who reads this, go read a book! Whatever kind you like, but find something you enjoy and read it and let your mind have some time to wander. Now moving on because my lunch break is getting close to over and I still need to write number three.

 

Number three

 

So after my last rant about men I feel the need to perhaps restate and correct in case it wasn't clear. I don't hate all men, or even hate any men, I just and supremely unimpressed by the decorum of some that I know. Not that I am always impressed by the women either, it's just that the men have been doing a spectacular job of being asses lately.

 

I really do not care what they do to themselves, but I do hope that I can go through life without developing a mental block about certain people just because of a few bad days. So perhaps this is the message of point number three: to all the men I may every meet, sorry if I am a bitch when I meet you, but it was probably just the jerk before you who turned me off. Haha, if only.

 

Well that's looking like the best I can do with ten minutes . Someday soon, I promise you, and intelligent blog will be coming your way. (yes I know how empty my promise sounds since I've yet to turn anything intelligent out thus far, but wait for it. It is coming...)