thinking about the rum in my apartment.
I've been in a weird mood the past couple of days. I feel like I'm running in place and I just want to get somewhere already. I want to go to grad school or join the Peace Corps or get a stable job but none of these things are for sure. I miss the deadlines of college. They were absolute (in certain ways) and there were rules and direct consequences. My job saddled me with the task of balancing a 200k budget spanning two fiscal years, where I was the negotiator between the head of finance and my boss the Folk Arts director, who thinks in a completely different way. I feel like excel ate some of my soul. Please remind me, if I ever get desperate for a stable job that pays well, that I would lose all drive for life if I was in accounting. Last night I hit a punching bag so hard the back of my hands are bruised. Usually I love my job, but when my boss throws all of the budget stuff in my lap, all I want to do is hide. I'm trying to think positive, but its been hard this week. The first thing I do in the mornings is check my email to see if the PC has contacted me.
In other news, I got to interview Otto Neals today, a pretty famous visual artist from Brooklyn. I wish he was my grandpa. So sweet.
Have these lyrics stuck in my head: Acid Jazz Singer by the Fratellis
She said I'm no genius and I've lost myself
The books are on the table and the secret's on the shelf
And it's one time keep it slow
wind them up and here we go
Get it right today and you may still be here tomorrow
Some said she was saintly, to some she was a swinger
Me I only knew her as an acid jazz singer