Working

Well I spent the last two days lazing around happily, but now I'm back as work. 3 days ago I had started a post about how much I wanted to hurt people for no reason and about how angry and murderous I was feeling, but i decided not to post it, and I'm glad because I don't feel that way anymore. It may say something about my general moodiness, but today I feel fine. Maybe it's because I started exercising again? I walked 3.6 miles with Victor and Shirley the other day, then last night went to the gym. I also started counting calories on my super-awesome android phone, so I'm happy to be back on the diet bandwagon. I did weigh myself last night and I was pleased to see that I had not gained any weight during my time off! Maybe it was due to muscle loss, or maybe it's just that I had increased my metabolism. Either way I couldn't be more thrilled about it.

Seth went on his shadow shift, and although at first he was hesitant about the job while he was there, when he got back he decided that he did want the job if they offered it to him. It will be a huge change and we probably will never have a day off together next semester, but it is an important career move, and worth a 15 week sacrifice of our personal time together.

Oh and Inception was great! But then we saw Shutter Island, which was also great, but the similarities between the two movies were hard to ignore. Watch them both (they're both worth the time) and then you'll see, but I'd rather not give anything away. Loved the end of both of them!

So there's this show I really enjoy, called Work of Art. It's on Bravo and it's one of those shows like Project Runway, or Top Chef, where people compete at their craft. Work of Art happens to be about artists. It's actually fascinating to me, when the only limits are usually the far reaches of the imagination, how pathetic some of these works of "art" are. I find I have the same problem with an artistic deadline. I guess creativity can't always be forced. But I wonder about the imagination, and why there often is a limit to what we can think of. It seems like the possibilities are endless when it comes to things as subjective as art, but when you actually try to conceive of something, you find you can easily reach an end. What holds us back from our own mental and imaginative potential??