February 5th, 2003. Wednesday
Lunch today consisted solely of foods from the vending machine. A two dollar chef salad, which I'm sure is behind my stomach pains, and an 85-cent "cheese snack" that consisted of several inch-and-a-half squares of American cheese, a chunk fo swiss, and two packs of crackers. This "cheese snack" seems to be a new addition to the vending machine, as I'm sure I would have partaken of it sooner. There was also a variation, labelled "Tuna Snack" that I dare not try. It's scary the amount of quantity of food of questionable quality/safety I'll eat. At the same time, I really enjoy very expensive foods as well. Basically, I just like to eat. And food is about all I can really get enthusiastic about these days.I stumbled upon a showing of Pulp Fiction on HBO the other night, and watched the last hour or so of it. I saw it twice when it first came out, thought it was great, then quickly became sick of it and hadn't seen it in at least six or seven years. But over the passing of time, I'd forgotten how entertaining that movie really is. And it's a shame Sam Jackson didn't win an Oscar for that, because almost every angry character he's done since is just a variation on the Pulp Fiction character, so his chances of winning now are pretty slim. And he was really great in that film. Anyway, the movie really holds up, even eight and a half years later. Christ, I can't believe that movie is so old. That was Travolta's comeback movie. And I guess it does seem like a long time ago when you view it in the perspective of John Travolta's career. Which is admittedly an odd way to measure the passage of time.
I've spent the last hour or so looking for writing contests to submit shit to. I've been overcome with anxiety lately about my lack of doing anything. Well, I guess I wouldn't call it anxiety. It's a little more complicated than simple anxiety. It's more of a frustration over my complete malaise, the kind that just sort of eats you up inside because you know you should be doing more than what you're currently doing. And it's more than likely responsible for the shitty mood I've been in for the last few days. I've found a few places that seem interesting, and I've already entered one. Right now, I'm just sending out things I wrote over the summer. There's no new writing to speak of so far. But it's a start. Don't know why I didn't think of this sooner. I can never motivate myself enough to just write for writing's sake. I need a deadline and/or a topic and some sort of external motivating force. I often think my lack of motivation is out of laziness, or just a simple sign that that wasn't what I really wanted to be doing. But lately I wonder if it's something else. Like fear. The fact that maybe I'll realize that that's really not what I want to do. For the last few years, writing has been tops on my wishlist of dream jobs. If I suddenly realized that that's not what I want to do at all, I'd have really nothing else on the list. Right now, I have a vague notion of my ideal job. If I suddenly decided that wasn't what I wanted, I'd be completely lost. Then again, it might also be really liberating. I think I'm putting too much pressure on myself right now, which is making any effort to work on it kind of impossible.
Then again, it's also completely reasonable to guess that my heightened levels of anxiety are a result of the massive amounts of coffee I've been consuming lately.
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