I spend way more intellectual energy and effort on carefully my crafted Facebooking than I really should. The curating of photo albums takes a good deal out of me. I. must. be. funny. And status updates are (generally) reserved for something rather clever*. They don't always have to come from me. In fact, a fair amount of the time, I just take a quote of some sort and tweak it.
However, on days like today, that pretty much beat me up for no good reason, I'm stuck. All I can think of are things from Camus, Sartre or the gloomier works of Graham Greene and Julian Barnes. Not particularly cheery, eh?
This leads me to wonder if these fancy degrees I have slash am working on did anything worthwhile other than giving me more beautiful ways to describe my dissatisfaction with my life. A life, btw, which is ridiculously good. I guess, if that's really the sum total of my education, I should wait for someone who chose more wisely and studied something useful to make a time machine. Then, I'll just go back in time and tell 18 year-old alea to pitch it all and go for the accounting degree. Then I'd be happy.
*Or, what I find clever. Because I amuse myself. And no one else.