Write

The next time I whine about how I have no idea what I'm doing with my life, tell me to shut up and write. As with most everything in my life, answers to big existential mysteries are to be found from movies, TV and friends with logic.

Run away from home, spend more time with grandma, write. Actually, spend more time with grandma first, then run away from home.

I need to stop working in an office. No matter what someone promises you, if they're making that promise in an office, you can bet that it won't come true.

Case in point: I turned down the Reu.ters offer partly because I didn't want to spend my days doing hourly stock market reports. And when I told my boss that, he said yes, that sounds terrible and isn't it better if you stay here where the work you do is more varied and fun and exciting. Well guess what the fuck I've been doing for the past month. Just guess.

Makes it so depressing to read a book like The New Kings of Non-Fiction, filled with brilliant journalism that really tells stories, enlightens you about things you'd never even thought about, that is filled with the writer's own excitement and interest in the subject.

Me? I'm making up reasons every hour for why the stock market has gone up or down, as if I know! But if there's one thing I've learnt this past month monitoring brokerage reports, it's that nobody knows why the stock market behaves as it does. Financial analysts are wrong ALL THE TIME. So, you know, if you've ever thought about being an investment banker or a stockbroker, I'm telling you now -- all you need is maybe three to six months of tutoring (which I can give you for a small cut of your first future commission), and you're set for life.