enfinblue's Bluey (credit to Fifi for the nickname!) Diaryland Diary

"I am seeking, I am striving, I am in it with all my heart." -Vinc3nt V@n Gogh

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All of my worries have melted like lemondrops

It is WAY too late again. I was at work late--my boss is mad and there is no WAY I can get this project done on his ever-tightening timeline. I then went to do the quickest shop ever for a pair of jeans and a pair of black pants; miraculously, I was successful. And then I was running like a madwoman along the canal, ponytail flying in the wind, my lungs searing from the cold and from my recent lack of training.

That was my day. Like I said, my boss is crazy. I wrote to my friend who gave me last night's pep talk to suggest that perhaps my problem is that I've been mixing up the issue of needing a job with the one of needing THIS job. It's seriously a crazy-person's job. I am quick at what I do and I don't need breaks. I'm also very intuitive with respect to where to let results lead me. In other words, if I can't do this project in the time allotted and given my strictest discipline, I swear that very few people out there could (unless very, very experienced with the particular microdata that I am using; even so the coding itself takes forever and is project-specific).

I still have my profile up on that dating site, in spite of not doing anything with it of late. It's seriously shocking to me though how many people write to me from all over the U.S. (not to mention the globe). It's rather crazy. The latest one is from Newfoundland. I mean, maybe I've missed the romance boat or something but unless I happen to meet someone by chance on a trip or something and fall madly in love on the fly, I am not going to START something with someone who lives on a jobless island--albeit a lovely one, though with wicked winters-- 1090 miles away.

Yes, clearly, I missed the romance boat. I'm lame enough to believe that there is probably at least one guy who lives within three hours of here who could be a great friend and mate for me. Of course I've never met such a person; I just persist in thinking it is likely true that there are a number of them out there. I'm practical in that way. Too practical for romance, perhaps. :)

So tomorrow is a lecture on Pierre Elliot Trud3au's education, at the National Archives. Like most women over 35, I still have a crush on that particular dead guy. Even when I was nine and arguing in the sandbox (literally, not figuratively; I was weird) with a classmate over his loss to Joe Clark in the 1979 election, I knew he was hot. (I attended a school for extremely odd, apparently 'gifted' children.) I had good instincts about things, even then. ;)

OK. I'm going to take my superior intuition and positive attitude over to the armchair with my bag of raisins for a late night rest.

Cheerio.

10:47 p.m. - 2006-10-25

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