(no subject)
I know I tend to be a worrier. That’s my nature. I didn’t worry too much about the future when I was in school because I always had the immediate future of what was due in school to worry about. Now I’m out of school. I see energy costs rising higher and higher. I see my income at Giusti’s going down for several reasons one of which is gas prices. The other of which is that my customers are getting older and older. Part of this decrease in income can be regarded as a positive thing. I’ve said it before. I was making too much money before. Not that I really was making too much money before, but it was very comfortable, and I had learned to spend that money. It’s hard not to. In fact, I admire those with the necessary discipline to become that proverbial “millionaire next door” by not spending everything they make. I spend like a fool while I was in school because I was so confident in my ability to get the “good” job when I graduated. It’s funny how when the present is good, the future feels wonderful. I’ve done that before. While I was in Santa Barbara, I was having a blast. And it seemed like a forgone conclusion that it would never end. Business at Giusti’s was so busy (we even complained that it was too much), that I had no reason to believe that it wouldn’t last forever. I almost feel like last year was the metaphoric Mardis Gras. Now were in the Lent portion of the analogy.
You might say that that is true in general. The last few years in this country, and possibly the world, have been one big party. People getting fat, living free, squeezing their eyes wide shut to the plain and simple fact that we weren’t born to be entertained. On some level, that’s what we’ve been addicted to. I’m not saying to blame Hollywood. That’s only on tiny piece of the whole tapestry. I’m saying we want comfort. Big cars, big houses, plush furniture (who doesn’t want these things) Ipods, TVs, bigger, clearer, faster, bling, beat, sex-in-city feet, macs, mochas, you name the brand, and we name the identity. It’s seems like it’s almost within human nature. I mean, what’s the alternative? Poverty? Who in their right mind would long for that? But where I’m getting is the craving for this wealth has, perhaps, surpassed people’s ability to provide it for themselves. And everybody is working so hard (and I do mean that we’re all putting in at least forty hours, but probably more in a week) that come Friday night, we feel like we fucking deserve a treat. We’re tired. We’ve been jogging, net-surfing, completing projects for someone else to get rich, picking up kids at ballet, talking with teachers, sitting in traffic, standing on trains, running around, not yet on empty, but powered by taurine, than when Friday finally rolls around, and sometime Thursday or even Wednesday, we say fuck it, we’re going out. Or the Saturday morning sun peeks over the horizon winks us awake, and we say, “What am I working for? I’m buying a Sony.”
And it’s been going on for years. And maybe, the party’s over, and we’re in for a bit of a hangover that no amount of aspirin or vitamin C will end. Only time.
I might be totally wrong here. I might not even be talking for anybody but me. But my time is up for this morning. Tomorrow, I’ll try to write a funny story. These apocalyptic entries probably don’t do much to get me ready for the day.