The internet, university, grammar, and content writing.

One of the things that surprises me the most is how annoyed I get at the most trivial of things. I get so pissed off by things that are smaller than the tiniest speck of dirt in retrospect to the mountains of worries that concern myself with every day. For instance, it took me two hours to sign into this account tonight. Google has decided that tonight is the night it will forget to take its medication, as no matter how many times I entered my password and supplied numerous email addresses and safety questions, it simply would not let me access my account. I blame it Google Chrome. I don't know what I did to deserve its wrath. Did I leave its grandmother at the bakery again? Did it find me stealing it's Kleenex toilet paper to swap it with 100% recycled paper? Isn't an annoying crying baby enough? Sometimes I just don't know anymore. Why can't the internet just leave me alone?

  I suppose the internet is everywhere now. Every one has a smart phone. If you can't check your email in under ten seconds via your smart phone, then you're not getting that 10% off your new shoes. I tried to sign in, but it wouldn't let me. And I even paid my phone bill! It must because I don't use Apple products. See, this is how Chrome gets back at me! Because I use Android instead of Apple it makes me use Internet Explorer instead of Google Chrome. What a bastard. It sounds like an alcoholic Irish bookstore owner taking his revenge on an old man trying to by David Copperfield for the full price.

  I am going back to uni next week. I've had six months off to care for my daughter. I'm excited to go back, and yet dreading it at the same time. I'm not the type of person who has a lovely group of uni friends, who meets up with them at the uni bar for a drink or two, or who hangs out at the library two hours after their last class to chat about foreign policies. I'm the type of person who will get their work done during a break, is too poor to drink at the uni bar, so has someone else buy them a few drinks and some nachos, is the only person who orders El Diablo pizza, and catches the bus home. I want to socialise and have a wonderful group of uni friends and protest about the shadow minister, and even though I'm studying politics subjects and I should care about these things, I really don't. I just want to get on that stupid bus and go home.

  It's funny being a pregnant uni student. Six months ago I searched the campus for someone else like me. Someone I could talk to about studying with a mutant inside my stomach, but the only person I could talk to was the tutorial teacher from my least favourite class. On the outside she seemed like a bitch, but on the inside, she was actually really nice. She was just firm and strict, I guess. Everybody thought I was eighteen and just out of high school. They didn't notice that I couldn't care less if I was late to class, and wasn't eager to talk about managerial concepts in the workplace. I was more interested in hating on the government. Plus, management concepts could drive even the most happiest person to the grave.

  I'm happy to return to study, but then I think to myself, what is the point? Am I going to get a good job? I don't even have a good job at the moment, so what will a Business degree do for me? All I want to do is sell my books and create a content writing business. Can that be so hard? Well, yes. Yes, it can be. You see, not a lot of people even know what content writing is. When I tell them what I do for a living they look at me as though it's my job to catch fish from the local watering hole to feed my village. As soon as you tell someone you write for a living they immediately judge you and think you're doing an arts degree. As if an arts degree ever did anything for anyone! The world is all about money and politics, and if you don't know about one or have another, you've basically got nothing going for you. Even if your multi-coloured beard is in the Guinness Book of World Records. I was thinking that getting an ABN would make me more professional, but would it really? I have my own cards, but does anyone actually care about them? Cards are for stock brokers in Brooks Brothers suits, not uni students with toddlers.

  In reflection of the six months I have spent out of uni, I think I have spent at least 70% writing articles and content for people who would never appreciate the time I take out of my day to write for them. 10% worrying about gaining weight. 10% writing my new and amazing novel. And 10% of my time annoyed at the sheer hopelessness of peoples grammar. Sometimes I really worry about humanity. It's always going to be I before e except after c. There is a difference between there, their, and they're. There is such a thing as a semi-colon (and it has nothing to do with a colonoscopy). I know I shouldn't get so worked up about these things, but they are important, aren't they? The English language is so messed up that grammar is one of the only things that saves it.

  I wish that everything would just fall into place, but I know that it wont, because life is not that boring. Life is exciting. I have a wonderful fiancé who complains about lag in Call of Duty. I have a beautiful daughter who, in an attempt to crawl, is an expert at doing the worm. And I have friends in a variety of different states who I wish I could visit every day. Why are plane trips in Australia so expensive? You'd expect airlines would want to bring people together, not keep them apart. Maybe they should chat up some call girls for some advice? I know I would.

The photo of the day is...



Clive Barker! I just want to high five him. Maybe have him read to me. I don't know. Whatever it is, I bet it'll be erotic.