lowercase and bootless

i am too tired to capitalize anything.  the antonym for “productivity,” according to answers.com, is “idleness.”  but how can you be idle if you’re actually doing things?  just because they’re not the things you SHOULD be doing…synonym.com is more colorful: “antonyms for productive: bootless, fruitless, futile, sleeveless, vain, dry.”  that’s more like it.  even has a bit of a rhythm to it.  and mostly correct; my closet is indeed devoid of boots, though i do have some peaches in the fridge, but i am indeed wearing a tank top.  futile?  i certainly don’t think this blog will save the world.  so ok, i suppose.  vain?  yeah, blogging is.  dry?  well, it’s pretty hot, and my water bottle’s empty.  i guess today is the day of the lowercase bootless blog.

in other news, i seem to be stranded in a town full of people who don’t read.  the library is teensy and mostly full of romance paperbacks, and when you search google for “bookstore near honesdale” you come up with:
-footprints (which is a little rare- and used-book place on main street, just down the block, very cool but not the kind of place you go to pick up something to actually read)
-salt shaker christian store (’nuff said)
-st tikhon’s bookstore (an Orthodox monastery bookstore that advertises “Starbucks coffee and free wireless!”–and is only open 9:00-4:00, which is when i’m at work)
-borders (which is going out of business like next week)
-adult playtime boutique (i repeat, ’nuff said)
-adult outlet (which has one review worth quoting: “this store is very friendly ONLY when the blonde bombshell is working she is sexy they need more of them like her….” and the rest is unquotable.)

i realized that this is my first time ever working 8:00-5:00 in an office, and i’m not sure i like it.  i can’t DO anything i want to do during the day, like yoga classes.  there is only one studio anywhere near here and the last class they offer starts at 5:00.  i’m going to call and explain that this breaks my heart and ask if they could please move at least one or two of those classes to 5:30 and offer to freelance-edit their magazine in my spare time in return.

…but enough complaints.  i also discovered that the first day of work at an office is just like the first day at school!  some of the women go for a walk during the lunch hour, so that was sort of like recess.  i even got a take-home folder.  except it was full of 401 (k) forms and insurance forms and tax forms instead of field trip permission slip forms.  and i had no one to take it home to.  i also got “office supplies,” which are basically “school supplies,” if you subtract the crayons and add a stapler.

well, if i had any energy at all right now, i’d go 1) unpack the rest of my boxes, 2) go back to walmart (ugh) and purchase a cutting board, a set of sharp knives, a cheese grater, some water glasses, and a cooking pot, 3) hang up pictures on the walls, or 4) organize my bookshelves.  but i have no energy.  so instead i am writing!

speaking of which, just went through some old blog post drafts and found this:

Turns out 45 mins of audio translates to 11 pages, single-spaced, when transcribed.  Writing a biography is possibly going to be more work than I’d realized.  Sprawled on the floor, hooked up to the laptop and the boom box, giggling uncontrollably at Shmbecca on the couch…commented that I feel like I’m in college again. Because I’m procrastinating on my work by googlemap-street-viewing my friends’ houses, even though I know what they look like.

now THAT’S being bootless, fruitless, futile, sleeveless, vain, and dry, folks.  i rest my case.


One thought on “lowercase and bootless

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s