Utterly enamored with the soundtrack from The Fountain. The movie's not half bad either. I still don't know if I understand it, per se, but the cinematography's stunning. And I will always give two thumbs up to couples taking baths together (see: The English Patient and Big Fish and my own life).

These past few weeks I've been helping with lab notebooks at work. We're digitizing them so the chemists can put them into long-term storage. You'd think this would be dull . . . and yes, it sort of is. But the notebooks themselves are quite interesting. There are little formulas hidden in the corners, little clusters of results marching across the pages. I've seen photographs of colored liquids in a few of the books. FedEx receipts with bizarre instructions. Sometimes someone will get artistic and pencil in wisps of smoke around their technical drawings. Or write things like "Yes, got it!" on a productive day.

Every once in a while, I wish I were more science-brained. It'd probably be fun to mix potions in a lab all day. Hell, it has to beat what I'm doing now. I still don't know what I want to be when I grow up, but I grow increasingly sure it doesn't involve sitting in a building somewhere sneezing over books. I love books, I really do. You can take a look at my apartment if you need proof of that. But I'd much rather be writing them (or editing them, or reading them, or selling them) than acting as custodian. The creative aspect right now is kaput. And the stuff that's left? Repetitive, mind-numbing, and dull.

Ah, well. My mind isn't in a great place these days. Maybe I just need a new job. Or some more less excitement in my life. Yeah, either of those things would do.