Creative people and how they’re different from ordin-*vomits into own mouth*

Day 33. 29 pages, 14,380 words.

Not sure how much time I will have today after all, since poor Mrs. Hatboy got sick and I needed to first drop Toop at daycare, then take Wump to the police station for an ID check prior to them sending out her new passport, then drop Wump at school before finally getting in to work. But oh well, it’s Friday before a long weekend, all my important work got done yesterday and I have a ton of overtime in my pocket. And it was pay day today.

Woo (Aquamaaaan)!

Police station was fun, I hadn’t been informed that Wump and I both needed to take our passports with us for verification so there was a bit of a pop quiz before they could approve the passport and get it sent on to its pickup point. What’s that? Just pick up the passport directly from them instead of going to them, filling out papers, then getting the passport delivered to a local R-Kioski because the local Post Office was shut down, and also more paperwork and shit? Oh no, that would leave at least three layers of bureaucracy out of the equation, might allow me to have gotten to work on time, and would have left eight government workers out of a job. Can’t have that.

Still prefer spending my tax euros on this than on the military. And the lady at the police station was very nice.

So, what else do I have time for this morning? Oh, I encountered this rage-inducing comic on Facebook. See, if you consider yourself a creative person and this doesn’t mortify you beyond your capacity for coherent thought … well, you may or may not be creative, I won’t cast judgement there … but you are definitely a fucking awful person.


It inspired me to make a variant of my own, though.

So, let’s see what the weekend brings and whether I have time to fling down some careful notes about Guardians of the Galaxy vol. 2. I’ve been here almost an hour, that means it’s lunchtime.

About Hatboy

I’m not often driven to introspection or reflection, but the question does come up sometimes. The big question. So big, there’s just no containing it within the puny boundaries of a single set of punctuationary bookends. Who are these mysterious and unsung heroes of obscurity and shadow? What is their origin story? Do they have a prequel trilogy? What are their secret identities? What are their public identities, for that matter? What are their powers? Their abilities? Their haunted pasts and troubled futures? Their modus operandi? Where do they live anyway, and when? What do they do for a living? Do they really have these fantastical adventures, or is it a dazzlingly intellectual and overwrought metaphor? Or is it perhaps a smug and post-modern sort of metaphor? Is it a plain stupid metaphor, hedged around with thick wads of plausible deniability, a soap bubble of illusory plot dependent upon readers who don’t dare question it for fear of looking foolish? A flight of fancy, having dozed off in front of the television during an episode of something suitably spaceship-oriented? Do they have a quest, a handler, a mission statement, a department-level development objective in five stages? I am Hatboy.
This entry was posted in Office Posts, Random and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s