Knuckles-dusted
(I crack open a Newcastle and take a quick drag before seating myself) What a mighty week it's been. I just got back from practice and I feel a little disconcerted. Thursday afternoon, dad and I reassembled everything on the truck that we tore apart - the fan shroud, the serpentine belt, the A/C compressor, and one of the accessory brackets - in order to fix one stupid little problem. All we had to do was replace a 3" hose that went from somewhere on the top of the water pump to another spot on the top-front of the engine block. At least we're done with that week-long production that was condensed into four days - the brakes were also done on Monday, so those are working amazingly well - but now we have an occasional fuel leak that has to be tended to. Shitballs. Of course, the other problem with Monday was that I had a practice to get to and a trade that I've been working on for a while. Those had to get shitcanned because I had positively no wheels. So debts, duty, and dedication roped me into helping/working on the truck. I don't mind, though; I owe my roommates more than that and I need the truck (for the time being) also.
Stress abounds in other departments; lack of funds and transportation shortages aren't my only problems. The mental and emotional toll - on both of us, mind you - of mine and Christiana's relationship to each other only gets greater as days go by. I can only hope the breaking point is farther away than I think it is because it happens to be on my lifeline. I don't know what will happen if it breaks.
El Supremo is still chugging along decently; we might finally get to play out soon if we get enough material polished to where we can take it to some venues. Although, with everything falling apart like it appears to be, all I can ask is to survive to see at least one dream come to life. Preferably before something horrible claims my life (not to imply anything along the lines of suicide; that won't happen ever).
"I wish that one day, I could wake up one morning and just find my paycheck on my nightstand when I wake up. I'm pretty sure that won't happen, though, because I always find it on the end of a fucking fishing line. Life just sucks some days…"
Stress abounds in other departments; lack of funds and transportation shortages aren't my only problems. The mental and emotional toll - on both of us, mind you - of mine and Christiana's relationship to each other only gets greater as days go by. I can only hope the breaking point is farther away than I think it is because it happens to be on my lifeline. I don't know what will happen if it breaks.
El Supremo is still chugging along decently; we might finally get to play out soon if we get enough material polished to where we can take it to some venues. Although, with everything falling apart like it appears to be, all I can ask is to survive to see at least one dream come to life. Preferably before something horrible claims my life (not to imply anything along the lines of suicide; that won't happen ever).
"I wish that one day, I could wake up one morning and just find my paycheck on my nightstand when I wake up. I'm pretty sure that won't happen, though, because I always find it on the end of a fucking fishing line. Life just sucks some days…"