right to be wrong

sometimes i get frustrated with myself. mostly it’s because of the level of complacency i allow to survive in my life. right now i’m thinking about my week: wake-shower-eat-work-eat-gym-coffee-read-sleep x 5. then on the weekends I’m so shredded from the effort of monotony that sometimes i don’t even leave my apartment. it’s not the job—i enjoy deleting commas. my boss gives me little assignments here and there. i look up the information and assemble it in a tidy little email report.

what is the proper usage of semicolons vs. colons? how can i decide which dash to use? i enjoy it, since i don’t know most of it anyway. we both just go by what we like. that makes no sense. i love to learn, and yet i have taken no time to educate myself in the intricacies of grammar, style, and other stuff.

yes, i received an english degree. my courses were all shakespeare, milton, creative writing, and film.

may i recommend the hitchcock class? or cities in cinema? horrors, perhaps? quite intriguing. the grammar i did learn in college, i learned from the papers i wrote in my film classes—the corrected, graded, red-penned versions.

i know that i have a gap in my knowledge. it’s a sizable and extremely relevant gap, too, considering both my current job and my future aspirations.

but i’m content to roll along. i know i have enough knowledge to get by. and as long as i’m getting by and not falling behind, i am happy. happy and stupid.


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