At 11AM my hangover is really kicking, though it didn’t begin to make its presence known until just after I stepped off the elevator at my office. I’m glad I got to work on time. Hell, I’m amazed I woke up on time given that I forgot to set my alarm or plug in my …
Category Archives: General
Orwell’s onto something
At the suggestion of a friend that happens to work as a copywriter, I read George Orwell’s essay, “Politics & English Language.” Then I read through it a few more times, just to make sure I was judging myself harshly enough. It’s clear that Orwell is not tooling around on the topic of poorly constructed …
Perspirations of greatness
The old Brooklyn buildings are sliding by as I stand, hand wrapped around the subway pole overhead, becoming increasingly aware of how many layers of clothing I donned before leaving my apartment this morning. The snow melts as it makes contact with the subway car’s windows, rolling down at the same pace as the condensation …
The Fishbowl
My brain is disconnected from the rest of me, looking out the window from some mid-level floor of a nondescript Midtown office building–it’s 9am and the snow looks like it’s drifting upwards, even though it clearly fell from the clouds overhead moments ago. I force my eyes to stop trying to focus on the individual …
Redundancies
Watching streaming stand-up comedy on Netflix last night, this gem of a quote presented itself. Every frustration I am experiencing in regards to my own writing right now, in a nutshell: People add words when they want things to sound more important than they really are. “Boarding process.” Sounds important–it isn’t. It’s just a bunch …
On cravings and comfort
This is one of those times I’m glad my family doesn’t read my blogs, and hesitant to post what’s on my mind because I know the friends with motherly-type responses to my actions do. Forgive me, mother hens, for I have no viable excuse for the small time stupid things I do. A year and …
The almighty dollar
On the subway, homeless people try to amuse you into giving them money. Sympathy is played out so bad jokes like what you used to read off popsicle sticks are the name of the game. After walking around with a cup asking for change, a man with one shoe duct-taped on started in with his …