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My internet is being throttled big time, thus rendering it practically unusable.  It should not take more than a minute to load up Google.  But it does.  That’s how bad it is.  It’s the scam of the Fair Use policy all ISP’s are slamming on their unlimited downloads customers.  If I pay for unlimited bandwidth, I should fucking well get it.  That’s how angry I am about it.  There’s not a lot I can do about it, seeing as they’re scummily breaking the contract in a legal way.  Tricksters and charlatans, I say.  Not to mention Westminsters proposing yet more legislation on broadband restrictions and access.  They should work on building the infrastructure instead of whatever the fuck they’re doing now.  I’m quite fuming.  I do not take kindly to idiots fucking with my internets.


Looking for another job, again, mostly due to my knack of landing temporary contract jobs as opposed to the other kind.  It’s good in a way, as I get writing done in between, but it’s frustrating.  I’m applying for something in the civil service, which is ideal as my ethics just do not mesh with the private sector.  I despise working in a cog in the machine environment with more emphasis on profit than actual flesh and blood humans – be it employees or consumers.  I do hate capitalism more each day – though it’s the best system we’ve got.


I see friends grow more accomplished in the lives they have chosen: steady careers, mortgages and some with families.  I’m not envious, but I still struggle with the traditional notion of life at this stage of life compared to what I’m doing.  If I bought a beret and moved to Paris, I’m sure I’d feel better.


I do want to have something extraordinary, but it would be so much easier to relent and join the commuter crowd, resigning the writing to the back burner of life, get the house and settle down.  But I’d go crazy, burning with unfulfilled dreams and resentment.


Hmm.  The green grass on the other side looks so much more together and sure of itself.  I’m constantly wracked with doubt, worry and all that good stuff.  Or maybe that’s just the person that I am and that won’t change if I move to the suburbs and adopt a golden retriever.  But mostly I think I’m worried that I’m incapable of growing up.  And most of the time I don’t see why I should.


That’s enough of that.  I’m working on a comedy-drama pilot script at the moment, because there are always competitions and opportunities to get TV scripts out there, and I’ve got nothing remotely adaptable for that medium.  Plus I’ve never tried it before.


I’m sure I have more things to say but sleepiness is taking over…  Will catch up on f-list tomorrow.  Will.


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May 2009

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