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six years later Maybe this isn't right, but my short entries bother me at times. One would think that in the span of twenty-four hours I could come up with more than two paragraphs. I know that I distill events down into a few words, but I believe that there are times when I go too far. So to correct this trend, I went over some of the things that I didn't mention yesterday. There was the fact that my landlord didn't shovel the driveway. Instead he cleared a path from the door of the house to my car door. I guess that he is going to let the rest melt over the next few days. Sigh. If I had know this ahead of time, I would done it myself. The moon was shining and air was warm last night. Shoveling would have been more of a zen activity than a chore for me. I could have mentioned the cut that I have on my right index finger that isn't healed yet. Now whenever I reach into my pants pocket to get my keys I wince. The denim seems to get snagged on that sore spot every time. I could have gone on and on about how I feel about telemarketers, but I changed my mind. Then I reviewed the laundry list of motifs that I regularly use here. There weren't any dreams to transcribe. I wasn't upset over anything. There weren't any revelations to share. Then I decided that what happened was that my getting woken up early scrambled my brain. All that I needed and wanted to do was get some more sleep. On the work front very little has changed. Not to beat this point into the ground, but another part of my job that I find disappointing is that it is just a service job. Yes, it is a well paid service job, but little more. I have nothing to show for what I do all night. I monitor our network for problems. I fill in numbers in a spreadsheet. I log problems in a database. I relay information to coworkers in the morning and then do it all over the next day. Honestly I find all of it to be very unrewarding. Now if I was a sculptor or painter I would have something to show for my efforts. I would have something tangible from my job. I could see and touch my efforts. My work would have substance and my job would no longer be an abstract. It would be more than a concept and have meaning. Whatever meaning it might have would be a subjective one, but at least it would have one. As for breaking free of this monotony I have been making very little progress. I have been looking but not that intensely yet. I find it strange that here I am six years out of college still trying to find my niche in the job market. I have to wonder what I did wrong or if I am just too jaded at this point.
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