meow, bow wow.

so. it's 4:16 and I'm bound to see a little daylight, again. I'm watching Catdog because I haven't watched it since I was 12, when it was not a syndicated delight. There's some sort of bass streaming from my neighbor's place, but Steph isn't home so I dare not bother them. I've become quite accustomed to my lifestyle of sleeping until the afternoon, going to work and seeing the sun come up. The time before 2 P.M. seems so useless and foreign to me.
I'm beginning to see the temporary career path that I would like to take. It's a burgeoning feeling for me, and I like it. Whether or not I stick to it doesn't matter to me; I'm just pumped to have a goal. Many of my friends are artists, and I envy them for that. Though pursuing artistic endeavors does not seem to be the most prosperous/promising venture, it is a career destination- A goal which I am usually lacking.
When I was younger (and still today), my mother always said that my ability to appreciate and achieve various gifts and goals (respectively) would be my gift and my curse. Maybe she used more words, or less, but that's how I interpreted them.
Catdog is a show about a creature that is a cat on one end, and a dog on the other. Opposing forces trapped in one being is a rather intense, philosophical theory to impose upon preteens. Thankfully we don't have to worry about that now, with the advent of Miley Cyrus... or wait, is she Hannah Montana?

And they wonder what's wrong with our generation.