(no subject)
i'm drunk.
Tonight was the christmas party for the stagehands / sound / lighting folks from Belterra Casino. I drank whiskey, old style, and OTR and hung out and ate beer cheese and played Cranium. Good game, that.
It's 4:15 in the morning and I'm waiting for Walgreens to refill my asthma medicine. Good thing, too, that they have a 24 hour pharmacy, or else I'd probably be dead by morn. Apparently I'm allergic to dogs or something. Fuck you, dogs.
I'm tired. I've been working a lot of 10-14 hour days at the ol' job and it's very taxing to try to maintain sleep patterns when you wake up at 6 and come back from work at 10 and go to bed at like 12-2; of course now it's 4:15 in the morning and jesus christ.
The Da Vinci Code was one of the worst movies ever. It really, really should have been made for TV and shown for free with limited commercial interruption courtesy of Scion because paying to see that movie in any form is bullshit. Fine adaptation of the book or whatever but complete garbage as a movie.
just so you know.
my arms are tired from typing.
I'm getting pretty tired of life as it stands. I keep having this hope that it's only for now, everything will be normal soon, but these projects at work have no forseeable end, and I can't see a time where I'm not tired all the time, and times where I don't get back from work at 10 and watch movies or whatever until 2, all the time neglecting any sort of regular duties like paying bills and rent, cleaning my home or whatever, and spending time doing anything except working and working and playing shows and music and preparing for shows and music.
I mean it when I say that every moment, every minute I spend at my home I feel guilty, like I should be elsewhere, and that I'm playing hooky from a very important somethingorother. Like I hope the headmaster doesn't find out that I'm gone, he'll whack me good. This is my home, my apartment that I pay for with the money I earn from hard work, that I have my possessions in and a small cupboard of food and clothes and junk, and a computer and a desk that I bought and a bunch of boxes that I haven't unpacked since October and a rug that isn't unrolled or vaccuumed (again since movein in October), and not one comfortable place to sit, but mine nonetheless. And every moment I'm in this place I feel like I'm fucking something up like I should be elsewhere. And typically I'll receive a phonecall to that effect.
Once in a while I'd like to wake up on a saturday and realize that I have nothing to do in the morning, lie in and watch the TV or read ein book and not feel guilty about it. And not receive a phonecall about what I was supposed to do that day and didn't or what I'm supposed to do tomorrow or the next day or the next day.
Is that too much to ask? Other people at my workplace work four 12 hour days and they get a day off. I have something like 11 paid days off that I'm supposed to take off by the end of the year or I lose them. I have no idea how I'm going to make time to not be at work.
What's that like? Do you get to see your family and loved ones? Do you get to have some time to enjoy life without a fucking 15 lbs weight on your chest every moment you are at home, because you know that you should be out somewhere else, working? Does it feel like you've put in your time, and now this is your time? I wonder. I do.
I'm fucking sick of this.
Tonight was the christmas party for the stagehands / sound / lighting folks from Belterra Casino. I drank whiskey, old style, and OTR and hung out and ate beer cheese and played Cranium. Good game, that.
It's 4:15 in the morning and I'm waiting for Walgreens to refill my asthma medicine. Good thing, too, that they have a 24 hour pharmacy, or else I'd probably be dead by morn. Apparently I'm allergic to dogs or something. Fuck you, dogs.
I'm tired. I've been working a lot of 10-14 hour days at the ol' job and it's very taxing to try to maintain sleep patterns when you wake up at 6 and come back from work at 10 and go to bed at like 12-2; of course now it's 4:15 in the morning and jesus christ.
The Da Vinci Code was one of the worst movies ever. It really, really should have been made for TV and shown for free with limited commercial interruption courtesy of Scion because paying to see that movie in any form is bullshit. Fine adaptation of the book or whatever but complete garbage as a movie.
just so you know.
my arms are tired from typing.
I'm getting pretty tired of life as it stands. I keep having this hope that it's only for now, everything will be normal soon, but these projects at work have no forseeable end, and I can't see a time where I'm not tired all the time, and times where I don't get back from work at 10 and watch movies or whatever until 2, all the time neglecting any sort of regular duties like paying bills and rent, cleaning my home or whatever, and spending time doing anything except working and working and playing shows and music and preparing for shows and music.
I mean it when I say that every moment, every minute I spend at my home I feel guilty, like I should be elsewhere, and that I'm playing hooky from a very important somethingorother. Like I hope the headmaster doesn't find out that I'm gone, he'll whack me good. This is my home, my apartment that I pay for with the money I earn from hard work, that I have my possessions in and a small cupboard of food and clothes and junk, and a computer and a desk that I bought and a bunch of boxes that I haven't unpacked since October and a rug that isn't unrolled or vaccuumed (again since movein in October), and not one comfortable place to sit, but mine nonetheless. And every moment I'm in this place I feel like I'm fucking something up like I should be elsewhere. And typically I'll receive a phonecall to that effect.
Once in a while I'd like to wake up on a saturday and realize that I have nothing to do in the morning, lie in and watch the TV or read ein book and not feel guilty about it. And not receive a phonecall about what I was supposed to do that day and didn't or what I'm supposed to do tomorrow or the next day or the next day.
Is that too much to ask? Other people at my workplace work four 12 hour days and they get a day off. I have something like 11 paid days off that I'm supposed to take off by the end of the year or I lose them. I have no idea how I'm going to make time to not be at work.
What's that like? Do you get to see your family and loved ones? Do you get to have some time to enjoy life without a fucking 15 lbs weight on your chest every moment you are at home, because you know that you should be out somewhere else, working? Does it feel like you've put in your time, and now this is your time? I wonder. I do.
I'm fucking sick of this.