Write a blog in less than eight minutes!

A good friend of mine urged me to write more. I have less than 8 minutes to compose a blog. In the beginning, I believed that every blog must be nothing less than epic. I don't know why I specify that I believed that in the beginning, because I believe it now. My position on blogs has never wavered. Always, always write blogs that will be immortalized.

Like for instance, the blog of Dr. P that rose to the most envied spot in the hall of fame when he carved the following letters into stone:

"Tears. Welling. I said to myself, if you cry on this plane over this book, there’s no way you can go back to th Garrison. Fortunately another coworker who was sitting on the plane next to me was crying over “Bucket List,” so I could call him a girl and hide my own girlish tendencies."

A round of applause is appropriate at this juncture, gentlemen. Anything I could say would merely trivialize the beauty and indisputable truth of this statement.


Breakneck subject change: I realize I hate my job. This is probably not so troubling to anybody, but myself. It is probably generally believed that I always hate my job. People probably come to this conclusion, because for 3 of the 4 last years, I undoubtedly hated every job I've ever held. Maybe I have no ability to respect the hand that feeds me. Maybe I am too stubborn. Maybe jobs suck!

It struck a truly poignant chord in me when I realized that I hated the manic pace the job required, coupled the frantic, inefficient methods my co-worker/manager takes to solve them. One third of the time I work, she is not present. These days go fine, and I forget all about how I wanted to abandon my job and go to the park to get sun, fun and exercise. Then, the tumult begins again when she returns to work. One of my favorite things that she does is lean right over me and correct what I'm doing on the computer key-stroke by keystroke, mouse-click by mouse-click! It's brutallion stallion.

Maybe what I ought to do is quit with a moment's notice, and ride the wild winds Northward to the land of the Holy Cross.

-Sea-Dog.