Quiet Desperation

Went to that candle selling bookstore last night and happened to pick up some book about what famous, successful women were doing when then were 30. The point was that they weren't doing what you'd expect. They weren't yet famous or successful. I think Suze Orman was a waitress or something at 30. I didn't buy the book. Instead I bought a collection of essays from that guy who wrote the now famous "On Bullshit". But instead I kept on with "You shall know our Velocity" before drifting off into a fitful sleep. People on my street make too much noise in the middle of the night. And when it's Saturday morning, 7:30 a.m. is still the middle of the night.

When I was in the bookstore, it occurred to me that part of the problem is that people seem to think I'm some sort of genius because I can make shiny spinning thingies happen in PowerPoint presentations. And because this is so far from genius behaviour, the praise seems at first hollow, and now, I feel, offensive. This is not what makes me smart. It can't be. This is the 2005 version of a life of quiet desperation. *Sigh*

Tomorrow is Word on the Street. Maybe that will help. Of course, actually having a functioning computer to do my job at work might also improve my mood. But let me stay away from that subject before I get myself too deep into the pit. And then there's my beloved CBC....