Oh, diary, here I am again. Not much has changed since I wrote earlier today, but I seem to be getting addicted to writing nothings.

Somehow, the day goes quickly, even without meaningful work. I don't know what I do all day. A lot of communicating, and some pathetic self-promotion, trying to get more work. Still by the end of the day, something is amiss. Some task unaccomplished. I think I have to start making lists again. Lists keep people on track, if you remember where they are.

My friend on the inside has told me that the job I applied for has still not been filled, so I should reapply, and appear all eager and stuff (I'm sure you can just hear the eagerness in this entry). Granted, I hate working for other people and always will; that seems to be apparent. Also, it is painfully obvious that to get anything started, I need money, so that requires working for some other people for a while. Therefore the mature and adult thing to do would be to suck it up, get the job, save the money, etc etc.

Okay. I'm going. Stop picking on me. I'm reprinting my resume. Leave me alone!

I know. I am so goddamn rebellious for no good reason. Frank keeps reminding me to work within the system to get what I want, then once I get to a certain point I can rearrange it to fit my tastes.

Bleh.

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