<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14469848</id><updated>2011-04-21T19:14:55.970-07:00</updated><title type='text'>thought &amp;diams less  thought &amp;diams more</title><subtitle type='html'>Not right now...</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wonderingwandering.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14469848/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wonderingwandering.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>WonderingWandering</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03163206399988567805</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>2</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14469848.post-112184288971568147</id><published>2005-07-19T23:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-20T00:01:29.720-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Not Ready For Bed</title><content type='html'>It's almost midnight and I really should get to bed. Morning will be here in a matter of moments and my "exciting" day will unravel like a favorite and treasured item of clothing- oh yea, it'll be that tragic...I know it already. I am tired of my job...it can be boring, and I don't appreciate working with somebody that is lazy and though has worked in an office for two decades, still does not know how to use a damn computer. And then cause she must constanly yap about herself...pretty much takes credit for the greatness that is my hard work. The fact that I know I will not work in that hell hole for the rest of my human-type existance makes me feel a tad better. But eight hours in that strange workplace of mine with strange personalities and situations really wears me out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lately I have felt really alone. Life is kind of boringly trudging along.  It's kind of bummin me out, but I have been immersing myself in music and it's been making me feel lighter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So one day perhaps I will make the effort to write about something fantastic, funny, and/or happy....but usually when stuff like that happens (and strangely, happy shit happens! numerous times a day even!) it doesn't stir my spirit in that special way that'll cause me to write about it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14469848-112184288971568147?l=wonderingwandering.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wonderingwandering.blogspot.com/feeds/112184288971568147/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14469848&amp;postID=112184288971568147' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14469848/posts/default/112184288971568147'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14469848/posts/default/112184288971568147'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wonderingwandering.blogspot.com/2005/07/not-ready-for-bed.html' title='Not Ready For Bed'/><author><name>WonderingWandering</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03163206399988567805</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14469848.post-112130741448580107</id><published>2005-07-13T19:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-13T19:32:06.660-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ready, Set, Go!  Look I Just Started!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;My first post. I feel obliged to make it interesting. There is pressure in the back of my mind to make it profound, funny, uplifting, creative, deep, or void of any spelling and grammatical errors... But now, I conclude that it doesn't matter. Who knows who will stumble across this silly thing but my own eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So my boyfriend just called. He is having some car issues and has been delayed in returning to me. Have you ever known somebody so well, that you know exactly what they have done just by speaking to them? And I don't mean that you know exactly what they have done because they have spoke the exact words which outlined what they have done. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;DER&lt;/span&gt; I am talking about just KNOWING. Well today at work when I talked to him on the phone, I could just tell that he did something.  A something of  which I won't explicitly publish.  But yeah, &lt;that&gt;it &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;pretty&lt;/span&gt; much annoyed me. But he is &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;pretty&lt;/span&gt; much the &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Love of my Life&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, so I will get over it shortly. The spurts of anger and annoyance only dance in my head because he is not here with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I almost launched into a whiny bitch fest about what else annoys me, but I really don't have all night, and tomorrow...and who knows how long, to elaborate on that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/that&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14469848-112130741448580107?l=wonderingwandering.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wonderingwandering.blogspot.com/feeds/112130741448580107/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14469848&amp;postID=112130741448580107' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14469848/posts/default/112130741448580107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14469848/posts/default/112130741448580107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wonderingwandering.blogspot.com/2005/07/ready-set-go-look-i-just-started.html' title='Ready, Set, Go!  Look I Just Started!!!'/><author><name>WonderingWandering</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03163206399988567805</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
