Not that I want to write about anything in particular. Or not write about anything in particular, for that matter. I acknowledge that the title of this post is more than a little confusing. But then again, that's what you've come to love about this blog, isn't it? I strive to confuse. Or digress. Or something or other to do with giraffes.
Anyway. I'm not really writing this. I'm pressing my fingers against the keyboard in hope that they will produce words in seemingly coherent order, preferable in a sentence-based structure. If I'm lucky I might produce the complete works of Shakespeare. Or maybe some monkey next to me will. Not that it matters - as far as I'm aware those are already published, so it is hardly that much benefit to writing them again. You can probably download the Kindle edition for free, so it's not even worth the time.
Instead, then, a blog post. About nothing. Nothing is the deal. I could tell you about job applications - and what an expert I'm becoming in filling out online resume forms - but it would bore you. It already bores me. I could tell you about how it's nice to have "vacation" (but it's not when said "vacation" really is "between jobs"), or about how I'm not as disillusioned about finding a job as I sound (I just really hate online forms). I am fairly optimistic, still. I've had a few interviews. I find listings where I am qualified. I'm becoming a self-proclaimed expert on mixing up a quick application. (I told you it would bore you.)
But still. It's not the best of situations. I want to be in Oslo. It's nice of my parents to house me, and feed me, and provide my every need. But still. I want to be in Oslo (déja vu much?). And I want to work, now. I want to be useful, now. I want to see my friends, visit my regular hang-outs. I want to have an apartment in Oslo. Now.
Waiting - I'm not at my best game. I tend to forget to live in the moment when I wait. Limbo doesn't suit me. It goes for job hunting, it goes for temporary living, it goes for personal relationships. If I know what I'm waiting for, it's another story. I can be Patience embodied then. But insecurity? It gets to me.
I'm waiting for a whole lot of things at the moment. And while I wait, I should write. I wrote this. It will have to do, for now.