i have a new office mate. i'm a huge fan of his television without pity synopses and was all super excited to meet him. he's brilliantly funny... clearly very smart... very gay (or just very very femme)... a mediocre dresser (a plus in my book, but only a plus if he's gay -- i love gays who can't dress well. i find it charming.)... and he is a LOUD TYPIST. he's really aggressive with those keys: CLACKETY CLACK CLACK BANG BANG BANG. at first i found it annoying, and now i'm starting to think that it's a sign of how immensely talented he is.

he was brought into the company by a friend of mine. she, like my new office mate, is also an intimidatingly great writer. last night i walked into her office to find her literally attacking her keyboard. her face didn't read "angry" to me, so i don't think she was writing a nasty email or anything.

i labour long and hard over everything i write. i write and rewrite and rewrite and rewrite. if you check this blog for updates often enough, you'll find the most current posting being republished at least five times before i'm satisfied with it*. there's a hesitancy to my process -- the process of turning my thoughts into sentences. and i see that hesitancy in my work.

right now i'm typing as loudly as i puosibly can. and you konw waht? it's only resulting in a lot of typos.

hmm... oh well. i guess the loud typing is a symptom of their disease and not the root cause of it. that is, if being a talented writer is in fact a form of mental illness. and i'm pretty sure it is.

*in five minutes i've republished this entry four times.