three pages (of verdana size 11)

size eleven, because it is one size bigger than ten, therefore big enough for older eyes to read, and one size smaller than twelve, which is considered too big.

verdana because it is my favourite writing font.

three pages because that is approximately how many pages 1500 words or so takes up, which is what i needed to write.  advised word count = 1600.  absolute minimum = 1440.  absolute maximum = 1760.  my latest count = 1358.  close, but not close enough.

upsetting really, to discover rather close to the count of 1358, that you have, in fact, slightly misunderstood the topic, IN A HUGE WAY, and need to kind of adjust the whole thing here and there, throughout, until it resembles some kind of sense, rather than nonsense and rabble.  ramble ramble.  just like me.  

i’ll be happy when this is over, i guess.  but not that much, because it means that all my attention will have to be focussed on the next thing.  
the ‘next thing’ being far bigger than this one. 
the ‘next thing’ being pretty much the thing that my entire course depends on, that i have to depend on to get me a job.

the realisation this afternoon that it’s probably not going to work.  no, not probably, more than likely not going to work.  why?  well, besides the fact that i spent the first two hours just trying to get compatible file formats…. because i am not creative.  i am not brilliant.  i am not funny.  i am not interesting.  i have no influences to base this on.  i have no particularly fantastic skills to try to make up for my lack of creativity and sense of humour.  i’m going to end up making the most boring project ever.  the kind i despise.

and so it begins again.

is it any wonder that all ‘my’ so-called brilliant ideas come from someone else?  that all my projects that go well are some kind of fluke?  that all the ones that go wrong are the ones that were meant to actually work?

that i’m never actually going to get anywhere with this?

that i’m not even sure if i care?

that i don’t really even know what i want to do with myself?  not even a little bit, not even at all.  

i look like i’m on this great path, this great journey to somewhere.  somewhere, yeah.  maybe.  wish i knew where that place was.  wish i had a destination in mind, not just a fucking journey.  an everlasting journey.  it’ll probably end up just going around and around in circles, like so many things…

destination unknown.