It's getting better all the time

I’m at least mildly irritating myself this week because, thus far, I’ve completely failed to write any of my screenplay. I have, however, written an awful lot of stuff for which I have (or at least soon will be) paid.

I rather like the idea that I can work without having to bother changing out of my pyjamas (actually a t-shirt/shorts combo). I’ve always hated the routine nature of commuting to work. After a while it gets terribly tiresome having to walk past the same old people. The businessman (if I were Japanese I might just describe him as being a salary man) with his briefcase, the incredibly tally blonde girl (she is, I’m pretty sure, a little taller than me), all of the mother’s taking their kids to school. It just becomes tedious after a while.

With things as they are now, I can just work as and when I feel like it. Often that means waking up at 2pm and working until 4am, and that suits me fine. Routine really isn’t my thing. I just get bored.

Still, my last job did have some advantages. Without it I wouldn’t have met the girl I’m currently seeing (and, after a week of not seeing her, we’re finally meeting up this coming Thursday).

I’m actually quite happy to see my life continue in a similar vein. Of course, I still want to move out, but I really hope that I can somehow get enough money to do that without having to set foot in an office again, at least not in the standard 9-5 way.

I really should have given this all a go years ago. I’ve kind of wasted myself on crappy, unfulfilling jobs that were, if I’m not being too big headed, well beneath me. Well, certainly not suited to my talents anyway.

Of course, I’m still worried about my burgeoning relationship with this new girl. I actually fancied her since the moment she entered the office. I’m trying to play it cool of course, but cool really isn’t my thing, especially after a few drinks.
Actually, that’s precisely why I hate these early stages; It’s all is about pretence and games-playing; honesty really seldom comes into it. I feel like I’m trying to project an image of myself that, although certainly represents a facet of my personality, doesn’t really show the full picture. But you just can’t be upfront about all your craziness can you? That would just put people off. Wouldn’t it?

She likes that I’m smart, she likes my “very blue eyes”. She really seems to have a genuine interest in me, but would she really like me if she knew everything there was to know right away?

I really do like her. She’s gorgeous. She has a great outlook on life. She’s actually one of the few people I’ve met who’s not criticised me for using long words. On the contrary, she’s gone away and looked them up or asked what the meant and seemed genuinely interested in the answer.

In some ways, that’s her quality that I most admire. So many people shy away from knowledge; she seems to embrace it.
I think she’s fantastic.

Anyway, enough. I’m a little cold and a touch drunk. It’s time to stop blogging. I should hide myself under the covers, keep warm and drift off to sleep. Tomorrow I have to finish off my remaining work. After that I can look forward to my first cheque. Once I’ve got that I suppose I can actually genuinely call myself a professional writer.

I do hope all this makes sense. Just bear in mind that I'm posting this immediately after a long drinking session and it's quarter to three in the morning.