Song Of The Day

Random Thoughts

So far doing well with work. Frankly, finally having some variety in work tasks is extremely appealing to me.

My manager has told me numerous times that she trusts me to handle many of the tasks in the office and that I should take it as a good thing. She also tells me I need to have more confidence in myself. Which I am well aware of. Every time people tell me that, I feel like saying trust me I know. Of course, my problem isn't so much I need more confidence in myself. I need confidence period, because I have very little, if any. If I had confidence in myself, I wouldn't be working there. I would have graduated college like a normal person, probably working as a radiology technologist like I initially planned on doing. Until mental illness, an ever increasing decline in confidence and self esteem, and an overwhelming fear of touching people got in the way.

For the longest time, if I was having to eat out on Sunday, I would get annoyed. Lately, though, it's all I have been wanting to do. I almost was going to eat home tonight, but convinced everyone to order pizza. And now I feel really guilty and like a real shithead for doing so, not to mention what my digestive system feels like. And I know when I wake up tomorrow morning, my digestive system is going to feel even worse, and I'm really going to curse myself. I'm also feeling guilty for making my parents eat bad, especially with their cholesterol levels. I feel like a rotten child.

"Comfortably Numb"just came up on my iTunes playlist. I wish I was comfortably numb right now. Also, I wish one day in work, a patient would come up to the desk window, no one will be there at the moment, and they say "hello, hello, hello is there anybody in there?". I swear to God, I would give that person $50, because it would absolutely make my day.

Song Of The Day

"The Fletcher Memorial Home" by Pink Floyd:



When I was down Myrtle Beach over the summer, I was in some music store on Barefoot Landing and the workers had Pink Floyd playing and this song happened to come on while I was in there and one of the workers turned it off. I protested loudly. He put it back on just for me. Don't ask me why I felt the need to tell this story. It was funny when it happened. And it's a great song.

Lyrics Of The Day

"Nobody Home" by Pink Floyd:

I've got a little black book with my poems in
I've got a bag with a toothbrush and a comb in
When I'm a good dog they sometimes throw me a bone in
I got elastic bands keeping my shoes on
Got those swollen hand blues.
Got thirteen channels of shit on the T.V. to choose from

I've got electric light
And I've got second sight
I've got amazing powers of observation
And that is how I know
When I try to get through
On the telephone to you
There'll be nobody home

I've got the obligatory Hendrix perm
And I've got the inevitable pinhole burns
All down the front of my favorite satin shirt
I've got nicotine stains on my fingers
I've got a silver spoon on a chain
I've got a grand piano to prop up my mortal remains

I've got wild staring eyes
I've got a strong urge to fly
But I've got nowhere to fly to

Ooooh Babe when I pick up the phone
There's still nobody home

I've got a pair of Gohills boots
And I've got fading roots

Lyrics Of The Day

"The Fletcher Memorial Home" by Pink Floyd:

Take all your overgrown infants
Away somewhere
And build them a home
A little place of their own
The Fletcher Memorial
Home for incurable tyrants and kings

And they can appear to themselves every day
On closed circuit t.v.
To make sure they're still real
It's the only connection they feel

"Ladies and gentlemen,
Please welcome Reagan and Haig
Mr. Begin and friends
Mrs. Thatcher and Paisley
Mr. Brezhnev and party
The ghost of McCarthy
The memories of Nixon
And now adding colour
A group of anonymous
Latin-American meat-packing glitterati"

Did they expect us to treat them with any respect?

They can polish their medals
And sharpen their smiles
And amuse themselves
Playing games for a while
Boom boom
Bang bang
Lie down you're dead

Safe in the permanent gaze
Of a cold glass eye
With their favourite toys
They'll be good girls and boys
In the Fletcher Memorial home for colonial
Wasters of life and limb

Is everyone in?
Are you having a nice time?
Now the final solution can be applied