It’s near the end of the summer and I feel restless. I want to do everything and nothing. I want to make a clan page, apply to jobs, get my camera fixed, play some games, exercise, watch movies, but am too lackadaisical to do anything. I sit around my apartment, restless, never sure.

Sometimes I hear some people described in a not-so-complimentary way. Some of the descriptions are much worse than others, but there are ones which always stick out in my mind. Things such as “creepy”, “ignorant”, “desperate”, “arrogant”, “obnoxious”, “unreliable”, or “ribald” are the last things I would want to be described as, and these have stuck with me ever since I gained cerebral consciousness.

However, I realized recently that it would bother me if someone thought of me as a person who fishes for compliments. I suppose that if there was some truth to this fact it wouldn’t bother me so much. Of course, I might in actuality be unaware of any false, insecure actions I may be performing, being a generally insecure person in the first place.

I’m not sure why something like this would bother me so much, as opposed to someone telling me that I’m untrustworthy. Of course, sometimes the fault of believing that someone is untrustworthy lies in as much as the faulter as the faultee. After all, a thief suspects a thief.

Perhaps people mistake my attempt at modesty as false modesty. Modesty is such an important thing for me that perhaps I over stress it and it ends up backfiring.

I guess the only way I’ll find out what I’m really like is if someone I trust were to tell me.

I hate the mornings where I wake up and my ring won’t fit over the middle finger of my right hand.

I was riding the bus this morning, coming back from St. Laurent when all the people are returning from their social lunch breaks. Traveling west, the buses fill up quickly and I was forced to stand near the back, holding onto my yellow pole like a territorial stripper lest I be forced away from door by the crushes of people. I had secured my location until the stop before the one I wanted to get off. Just as the doors were closing, a male with a very tough, apathetic face squeezed through and decided to lean on my pole. His back squashed my fingers against the metal bar as he decided to lean instead of holding on. I generally can’t stand listening to people on the bus, let alone share body heat with them, so I promptly let go and grabbed a hanging loop instead. I couldn’t tell if he was aware that he supplanted me, but I became annoyed at the fact that someone could simply get his way just by being ignorant or apathetic.

I decided to reclaim my iron bar, by grabbing it once again and touching his back in a sexual manner with my fingers. I wanted to test this tough male in how comfortable he was with his sexuality, to make him as uncomfortable as he had made me, and to claim the iron bar as my own. As I grabbed the bar, the doors of the bus swung open. I had reached my stop without realizing.

I stepped off the bus this morning, and the sun was low in the sky. The wind blew cool and fresh on my face, a welcome change from the muggy atmosphere further south. Exhausted as I was from my traveling, the weather refreshed me, and it all felt like happiness.

The food in my freezer seems to be alright, even after the power outage. That saves me from having to get delivery the next time I go grocery shopping. I was pretty worried at first, since Nick helped me stock up on food the last time he came over.

My Fujifilm MX-1700 has stopped working. The lens cover is stuck in the open position, and the lens refuses to extend. I’ve never had a problem with a camera, so I don’t know what to do about the situation. The MX-1700 has served me well, ever since I got it three years ago. It does everything I need it to, and since I only take pictures for web based things, I don’t need a resolution above 1280×1024. I might consider getting another one, depending on how much this one will cost to fix, and the options available on the digital camera market right now.