Overdose

May 19th, 2005 | Work Related

I’ll admit it. I am blogged the fuck out. My mind is tired and my body is weary. Comments, archives, read more, trackback, about me, your ad here, rss feed. Fuck me, it’s all starting to look the same. You know things are crazy when you’ve done nothing but read blogs for nine hours and you only get to the Dooce after dinner. Dooce used to first-stop shopping.

Now I get up and shower and read blogs while getting ready. In case anything exciting happens overnight in Blogland. If that happens maybe I could pitch a story idea at the morning meeting, but so far I just take up space. In a room with too few chairs. (But I saw chairs being wheeled in today. Nobody’s sitting in the floor tomorrow maybe.)

After the morning meeting I take all the reporter’s hard earned story ideas and use them as possible blog posts for the day. Nothing like a little intellectual property theft among co-workers first thing in the day.

Then I open up Bloglines and open up my massive Nashville Blogs folder and go to town. Thank God for RSS readers and Firefox tabbed browsing. My job would be hell without them. I read the day’s paper and magazines but mostly I just read blogs. A lot of conservative, politcally-themed blogs. Those, no offense, can be the most tedious. And there are SO MANY.

Anyway, yeah. Then I come home from blogging and I turn on my PC to find my gmail box full of unanswered emails and a deserted Sparkwood & 21, littered with uninspired lists of movies sitting on a shelf.

Eventually I’ll start going to bed earlier and drag my ass back to the gym (it’s been almost a month!) so I’ll have more energy for blogging here at home.

I’ve been sitting here for three minutes trying to think of a clever way to wrap this post up. I’m too tired to try any longer.

I’m spent.

16 comments ↓

#1 muhomadoo on 05.19.05 at 7:54 pm

D’oh! You’re going to end up like that guy, that guy who worked at a strip club for so long that naked women no longer seemed “interesting.” Or that guy that worked at a Porche dealership for so long that Porches became boring.

You know that guy. Some guy told me about him.

#2 A. on 05.19.05 at 8:11 pm

Yup, reminds me of this:
http://hatchmagazine.com/story.phtml?id=71

#3 mike on 05.20.05 at 10:58 am

I used to love talking on the phone. I would talk for hours and hours, to anyone who would listen. Then I got a job working on the phone. 5 years later, talking on the phone for extended an period makes my skin crawl.

What I’m trying to say is, I feel your pain.

#4 Scott on 05.20.05 at 1:31 pm

That’s one of the hazards of doing something you love for a living. Suddenly, it feels a whole lot like work. Try to maintain a sense of separation between your work writing and your personal writing. Otherwise, you’ll catch yourself not wanting to write at all because it’s no longer a form of escape–it becomes what you want to escape from. It took a couple of years after I stopped working as a technical writer before I felt the desire to write for pleasure again.

It could be worse–imagine how prostitutes must feel about sex in their off hours!

#5 Chico on 05.20.05 at 6:49 pm

It might be just that your body is rebelling from the change in routine.

That workout thing is real important. Get on it. It will do you a world of good.

Outside is a good place to visit too, and not just between the homestead and the meatlocker.

So far, so good, though?

#6 Camille on 05.20.05 at 8:40 pm

Yeah, working normal office hours after all those years ofwaitress hours is a big shift, isn’t it? Then there’s the sitting in a chair vs. schlepping things change. Maybe you just need time to adjust a little, and then things’ll be in harmony again.

And hey, I thought this post was good, even if you’re spent.

#7 soma watson on 08.14.07 at 11:38 pm