Hello again and welcome to one of the finalists for World's Dullest Website! If you couldn't tell, my interest in this website -- hell, any website with my fingers in the design pie -- has been nil lately. I designed and launched a new site (members only, darling, but cooler than those jackets) and as is my mercurial way, poof!, there went my interest in designing and launching web sites. Spent, sated, now off you go til I feel the need again. Obsession...then oblivion. Can you see why I hesitate to choose a career?

Speaking of, the main thing going on in my waking life lately has been a full-on loathing of my job. Now that I'm no longer spending my days crying and pining over boys, I'm free to focus on all my other problems, of which there are many. Really, I've hated my job for most of the 5 years I've been at it, but it's so benign, the loathesomeness was easy to ignore. My boss is wonderful. My hours are obscenely flexible. I'm well-paid for what (little) I do. I've traveled to exotic and exciting locales. And I'm bored out of my damn mind. Last week, the hate rose up and refused to further be denied. So now I'm back to the same spot I'm always back at, trying to figure out what I want to be when I('m already) grow(n) up. I've been reading I Could Do Anything If I Only Knew What It Was, which is very good. Hopefully there are answers for me within. Many people have notions of what I could or should do, but the thing is, what YOU think I should do (write, design websites, shut the hell up) isn't necessarily what I want to do. Then again, even shutting the hell up, professionally and for profit, would be preferable to what I am doing at this point.

Meanwhile, I continue to get most of my entertainment through sleeping. Last night I dreamt I was giving a makeover to a very nice, handsome man who really was in no need of a makeover, he was just letting me practice my non-existent makeover skills on him. (Yes, too much QEFTSG and WNTW for me, perhaps.) I fell for him primarily because he had nice hands. This has happened before, in real life. The night prior, another handsome, fictional man seranaded me with Bee Gees tunes after I revealed my childhood crush on Barry Gibb, and I went all swoony. This hasn't happened before, but it probably could. Given this theme, I'm starting to wonder if it's time for me to come out of Romantic Retirement. Then again, if my dreams are any indication of how indiscriminate I might be in real life (proving I've learned nothing from this sabbatical)...perhaps NOT.