DW

[desperance]

For most of you, I gather, DW now stands for DreamWidth. Me, I hold a watching brief on that, all uncommitted: I have an OpenID account there just in case you-all disappear, no invite codes as yet, and I await developments.

Here and now, DW stands for Don't Wanna, of which I have a caseload.

I have - you will be pleased and delighted to hear - located my missing tax return. This means, I suppose, that I should do my taxes. Don't wanna.

If not that, then what? I could carry on sorting out the office, but don't wanna.

There's always work. Don't wanna.

I could do something in the garden. Even with knackered shoulders and buggered nerves, I'm sure I could do something in the garden, but don't wanna.

I had achieved being sat on by a cat, but then even Barry didn't wanna.

I could coin a new word - apathoplexy: that state of being so apathetic that it drives one into rage and self-disgust - but it's far too much effort.

I got nothin'.

Comments

[ephiriel.livejournal.com]

Unfortunately in this instance 2 negatives don't make a positive - this time it just builds up into a whole huge load of don't-wanna. In an effort to salve my conscience I'm tackling the desk and it's a way of avoiding doing other stuff. Anyway whilst on this desk adventure I came across a book I had bought after a conversation we had - then I forgot to tell you I'd got the book - The flâneur by Edmund White. I probably forgot 'cause it was well buried along with a book about decluttering - say no more.
Anyway I'm sitting on the floor as I type this - the cat (pip) is sitting on my chair which is in the hall. I'm sure there is something wrong with this situation but I just can't figure it out.
D.