And so on...
I spent the Saturday dancing to a CD of an obscure Taiwanese boy-band pop, juggling in the park, and shooting water-guns at Claire, Benji, Emily, and strangers who got in my way. It was a good day, but an epiphinal moment led me to realize that I need to cut down on the drinking. I have been drinking too much for my own comfort, if not necessarily to the point of physical danger.
This new job is very stressful to me. It identifies me as kind of a panty-waist to say it, but I feel that three months of office work every six years is about as much as I can handle. Professional advice has told me that when people are fulfilled in their jobs, they do not run out of energy before lunch. I am cautiously optimistic, but it sounds too good to be true. Money doesn't correlate with suffering? This would be a paradigm shift in my world -if not copernican, than at least lavoisierian.
I spent Independence Day day prying the ceiling tiles out of my new apartment, until I realized that the building is pretty old, and they might actually be made with asbestos. After that I left in a hurry. This is an incredibly crappy thing to have to deal with. I will have to do one of those mail-in tests to see if I am going to die in ten years.
After asbestos-fretting, I went to the 2nd Street Brewery (no beer for me) and played pichnotte with the two Michaels. 2nd Street's pichnotte board has gone to crap, by the way. Afterword we stood in the parking-lot looking at the distant fireworks. Although I loathe blind patriotism, I really love fireworks. So pretty...
I created a myspace page for some of my old music. One of the songs is relatively new, the rest are quite old. I'm dissatisfied with the songs, but it's good to remind myself of what creativity feels like.
The rain seems to have killed my internet connection for a while. Now that the rain is gone, my internet returns. This is a worthy trade-off.
This new job is very stressful to me. It identifies me as kind of a panty-waist to say it, but I feel that three months of office work every six years is about as much as I can handle. Professional advice has told me that when people are fulfilled in their jobs, they do not run out of energy before lunch. I am cautiously optimistic, but it sounds too good to be true. Money doesn't correlate with suffering? This would be a paradigm shift in my world -if not copernican, than at least lavoisierian.
I spent Independence Day day prying the ceiling tiles out of my new apartment, until I realized that the building is pretty old, and they might actually be made with asbestos. After that I left in a hurry. This is an incredibly crappy thing to have to deal with. I will have to do one of those mail-in tests to see if I am going to die in ten years.
After asbestos-fretting, I went to the 2nd Street Brewery (no beer for me) and played pichnotte with the two Michaels. 2nd Street's pichnotte board has gone to crap, by the way. Afterword we stood in the parking-lot looking at the distant fireworks. Although I loathe blind patriotism, I really love fireworks. So pretty...
I created a myspace page for some of my old music. One of the songs is relatively new, the rest are quite old. I'm dissatisfied with the songs, but it's good to remind myself of what creativity feels like.
The rain seems to have killed my internet connection for a while. Now that the rain is gone, my internet returns. This is a worthy trade-off.