on the train
On transit again. People are coughing which makes me leery since I do not want to catch anything. This is the second Monday at my new job. Mondays generally make me feel terrible, but this one seems okay. I guess I'm not too sucked in by the work whirlwind yet. Funnily enough, the weekend seemed as short as it ever has, even though it was technically my second weekend since I'm only in three days a week. I truly am someone who just works to live...not a career thirsty, ladder climbing, bone in my body, heh.
I tried writing a bit of fiction over the weekend. I downloaded Scrivener for the free monthly trial and poked around in there for a bit. But the characters I created are absolutely paper thin and pointless, and my scenes incredibly boring. I used to be so excited by the imaginary worlds I created. I don't know why it all seems bland to me now. I do love reading other people's words, though. I love reading something that is like a strike to the heart. I know they say you have to be disciplined when writing and there shouldn't be any waiting for lightning to strike. But I can't help wanting to write when I'm consumed by passion. I need to feel something or else all I have are these sheets of cardboard and my own disinterest.
Also, I realized that I need to bring headphones on this commute. The only voice I want to hear this early in the morning is the one inside my head.