Parasite
I worked last week on Revolver as an electrician. Fun fun. Just got back from Dallas, my last bloody weekend there, finally. Goodbye Room Raiders, you were a bloody stupid show.
I've got a lot to say, and no time to say it. I'm working tomorrow doing the load in and out for the TranSiberian Orchestra at the Frank Erwin Center. That should be my last job for the year...
Ohh, Saturday night I was the passenger of a car wreck on hwy 635 in Dallas. A PA was driving me to a pub to meet up with some coworkers and he swished and we swished, and then we smashed and then turned a 180, smashed again and stopped facing oncoming traffic.
I was very happy to see that the headlights weren't actually moving towards us, because at that point I would have taken a head on hit. I was very suprised that in our spin across the busy highway we didn't hit anyone, nor did we fly off the bridge.
I feel sick. I've lost more weight. It freaks me out. I officially weigh probably thirty pounds lighter than I did at this time last year. I'm hoping that it's mostly water today...I'll try to fill my humps back up this week. I do have trouble drinking when it's cold.
What else did I have to say.......ohh, right. Stuff. But I don't really have time to go into it all. Mainly personal revelations, stuff about my performance at work and my game plan to improve, things I'm realizing about my personality and such. The fact that I realized that I have a burn out level that I reached some time ago and I've been coasting off fairly evenly downwards physically and emotionally...I'm getting cynical and caring less...which I'm not good enough to do. I've got to get my head back in the game or I'll lose what I've been working towards.
Basically, I want to be good at what I do, not just have a "job".
Ohh, I worry too much. Can you blame me? I've had a stressful fucking time lately. The one thing that would really snap me right now is if I didn't have Tristan. Fuck. I'd be completely lost without the reassurance that boy gives me.
Anyway, fuck, I need to get to bed. Have to be up and working in a few hours... again...
I've got a lot to say, and no time to say it. I'm working tomorrow doing the load in and out for the TranSiberian Orchestra at the Frank Erwin Center. That should be my last job for the year...
Ohh, Saturday night I was the passenger of a car wreck on hwy 635 in Dallas. A PA was driving me to a pub to meet up with some coworkers and he swished and we swished, and then we smashed and then turned a 180, smashed again and stopped facing oncoming traffic.
I was very happy to see that the headlights weren't actually moving towards us, because at that point I would have taken a head on hit. I was very suprised that in our spin across the busy highway we didn't hit anyone, nor did we fly off the bridge.
I feel sick. I've lost more weight. It freaks me out. I officially weigh probably thirty pounds lighter than I did at this time last year. I'm hoping that it's mostly water today...I'll try to fill my humps back up this week. I do have trouble drinking when it's cold.
What else did I have to say.......ohh, right. Stuff. But I don't really have time to go into it all. Mainly personal revelations, stuff about my performance at work and my game plan to improve, things I'm realizing about my personality and such. The fact that I realized that I have a burn out level that I reached some time ago and I've been coasting off fairly evenly downwards physically and emotionally...I'm getting cynical and caring less...which I'm not good enough to do. I've got to get my head back in the game or I'll lose what I've been working towards.
Basically, I want to be good at what I do, not just have a "job".
Ohh, I worry too much. Can you blame me? I've had a stressful fucking time lately. The one thing that would really snap me right now is if I didn't have Tristan. Fuck. I'd be completely lost without the reassurance that boy gives me.
Anyway, fuck, I need to get to bed. Have to be up and working in a few hours... again...