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There and Back Again |
Third Age Correspondence
Proper dwarves offer their services before they leave.
The Grey Havens - 04/03/2004 Long Time Gone - 22/02/2004 Only for Now - 04/02/2004 The Neverland - 19/01/2004 There's no times at all, just the New York Times - 15/01/2004 Links and RingsNo Shame Pieces Untitled Story Other Writings |
15/10/2002 - 4:26 p.m. Slough of Despond After a lengthy conversation last night with the grown ups who run my life, I was forced to agree I would continue to work in the scene shop for the rest of the semester. For those of you who have been reading since last year, yes, this is the same job that I loved last year, the job that I referred to as playing with tools. With the arrival of the new technical director, it has ceased to be fun and morphed into a job. I do not want a job. It isn't just that, I also dislike being yelled at for just about anything I do. I hate not being given instructions on the proper ways to do things. I dislike the idea that any time I can't find anything to do (because the guy has a tendancy to put more than enough people on one project) and so stand back for a bit, I get yelled at. My father says that I shouldn't quit. I'm probably taking things far too personally, because I have a tendancy to do that, he says. The way he puts it, if I'm being given mandatory Saturday hours in the shop, the guy must want me there, so therefore, I have no reason to quit. This is perfectly logical, but also terribly wrong. Unfortunately, it can't be argued. So, I'm in for a little more than a month of being pissed off four days out of the week. Today I went to Playscript Analysis and discovered that the midterm was taking place that day. Granted, it was a Jay written test, which cannot be studied for, really. But, still, I would've loved to have been prepared. However, it is entirely my fault because I confused the test with the theatre history midterm, which I believe to be next week. I think I did badly, but probably equally badly to the rest of the class, all of whom were prepared for the test. Soooo.... I felt shitty and skipped French, but I think now maybe it wasn't so very bad. It's Nathan I feel sorry for. He's the one who has to put up with my shitty moods and I've been doing more crying recently than I would like. He says he understands, and that it's OK, and it lets him take care of me and he enjoys doing so, but it still isn't fair. �From the Shire, down the Anduin, to Mordor
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