Wasn't going to do this
The last time I wrote a daylog, which was, in fact, the first time I wrote a daylog, it got a C!. And a lot of votes. This being my ... um, I think 16th WU ever, I was extremely excited. I kept, you know, refreshing the browser so I could watch my XP go up. When it stopped rising, the writeup had the highest rep, by a long shot, of any of my work.
Then someone pointed out to me that daylogs are used as dumping grounds for votes. Well of course! It makes sense, doesn't it? Daft of me to not realise that and get so hyped up about the whole thing.
For a self-absorbed, insecure, ego-inflated, approval-seeking whining pansy such as myself, that makes daylogging a bad idea. If I get no votes (or bad votes), then I assume that the wu was crap, and I get miserable. However, should the wu receive many votes, like my other one did, I know that I can't take the compliment seriously - it being the product of a bunch of bored vote dumpers.
Rather ridiculous, isn't it? Here I am, being a whining pansy in the daylogs ABOUT being a whining pany when I write daylogs. I think the recursion is going to give me a headache.
I can't get into hack mode. It's pissing me off. All I want to do is go into an insane coding spree and let nothing get between me and the program for 10 straight hours.
Let this be a warning to all programmers: Never become the boss! Never! Being responsible for lots of shit will ruin your ability to focus on a single task!
I am badly torn between the urge to vent, and the fact that whinging in this manner disgusts me.
I hate self-pity. This may be one of the reasons I pity myself. There's that goddamn recursion again!
At the same time I'm fighting with some really bizarre introspections (and what else is new), like the fact that I'm a womanising jerk and nobody, including the women I womanise, seems to object to this. Why am I getting away with this?
Anybody?
No?
Okay then.
I find the fact that I am simultaneously a womanising jerk, and a moralistic prude, extremely irritating. My existence makes no sense to me whatsoever.
And another thing. This whole exercise is so utterly cliché it makes me want to puke. The pathetic, immature teenager with self esteem problems. How very predictable of me! And, sorry to spoil it folks (as if anyone's still reading this tripe), but here's how the story ends - the teenager continues to be pathetic and immature, continues to indulge his quasi-autistic behaviours, continues to sink into psuedo depression at any opportunity, and keeps churning out shitty pointless writeups like this one.
Yay.
I'm so very glad I got out of bed this morning ... er, this evening actually.