I realise that some of us do not have a job that consist of being on your own for a large quantity of the time, but this is starting to feel ridiculous. This is starting to feel like one long monologue from me – and not necessarily a good one, because my life is rather bland at the moment.
Well back on topic; monologues. My internal monologue – this is an annoying word to spell by the way – is going a mile a minute at the moment. And it is not even on one track, but on several tracks, moving in very different directions. (I actually wanted to set this up as a play on The Vagina Monologues, but I have yet to see it. We have to see it. I Wikipedia-ed it and it looks rather interesting.)
To illustrate the randomness of my mind, thoughts I’ve had today:
Maybe I should acquire a taste for coffee.
I want to be a journalist.
Shakira was popular a long time ago.
Maybe I should see if I can find a job in Austria come April.
I wonder how it would feel to get my appendix removed.
- Yellow is an odd colour.
And I swear that these are actual thoughts and not just exaggerations.
Okay, this post made no sense. But do we really make sense?