Into the rabbits fur we go

"And hey, There's nothing else I can say!"
-Eh eh Lady Gaga

And now that life is good and I'm reasonably content- I have nothing to say. That's probably not such a great thing for this blog. It's going to get real boring, real quick in here.

Also I [for once] don't want to analyse it. I don't want to look at it in the mouth and pull it apart. Because why not just enjoy it right? Two cheers for complacency. Maybe I'm growing up out of my teenagery angst finally. You know, fifteen years later.

There's this great analogy in Sophie's world about how all people are born on the tip of the fur of a giant rabbit. And as we get older, we get more and more comfortable and so we slide deeper and deeper into the fur, we don't ask why we're sitting on a giant rabbit.

Of course the book makes it sound like that gradual descent is something you shouldn't do. You should always question the universe and why it works that way and why it revolves in that manner. Of course what the book doesn't address how this applies to normal people. And I'll tell you what- asking God, Allah and Buddha what everything means constantly is fcking exhausting.

It also probably means that I have way too much spare time, natch.

And without meaning to- I just pulled apart why I'm no longer pulling things apart. I think that's my cue to give it a rest.

Anyway I'm happy. That's all I was meaning to say. And also that my new boss looks exactly like Liev Schreiber. I vacillate between trying not to call him either Liev, Sir or Cotton Weary I'll let you know what happens if one day I happen to slip up.