|
Tuesday, Aug. 06, 2002 / 1:27 p.m. ~Was it the Banana?~ Durr. I came in to find this little pile of work on my desk, and it looked like such a big pile so I attacked it with some energetic fervor. Some verve. Some vim. Or vigor. Vinegar. Piss and vinegar. Attacked. And now, 9:53 a.m., I�m finished with my work. I tell you, if I could have piles like that appear on my desk every 20 minutes I could be happy. It felt so good to work. To get up and make my copies, FAX my FAXes, file my filings. Oh, yeah, baby, nice. Nice to use my fingers, nails freshly shorn (can nails be shorn?), to dial those FAX numbers on the FAX machine keypad. To reload the printer with paper. Tactile. Productive. Reminds me of jobs I�ve had wherein I actually worked. Feels good to work. Work can be good. I hate work, on principle, but there�s nothing like a good, long, hard day of actual physical work. Like standing on one�s feet all night making cappuccinos, or is that cappuccini? It should be. Or shelving books, or digging ditches, but that happens during the day. Speaking of, there are men down the street being very manly, operating big machines, big yellow machines, with the word CAT on them, moving earth, dirt, scooping up great piles of dirt and moving it hither and yon. I pass them on my way into work and I want to work with them, even in the heat of the day. I want to be DOING something. Lulu came in talking, as usual, and Laverne was singing, despite the joking pleas to stop, so I placed headphones on head, earpieces to ears and cranked up Dirty Vegas. I took a week or so off from this album, but I�m happy to be back. This is clearly my new favoritest album. Gawd (I NEVER say �Gawd�), I love it. Really, listen to it, see if you do too. It makes me want to dance, it reminds me of how good I felt at their live show. So good. Dancing, happy, hopeful, then meeting Mo. I tell you, everything has been such a huge letdown since that night. And isn�t that so weird? It is. I need to find something else big like that. Is there anything? Hell no. Oh yes, if I win the Lottery, like in my dream. I�ve decided I�d be a huge fool not to play tonight. Not to buy two tickets, like in my dream. Couldn�t hurt, I�d only be out $2 after all. Or� mmmm� that was such a good dream. For those of you playing along, that was two entries ago, if I�m not mistaken. I�m not manic depressive, but (no, I don�t play one on TV) I can go down pretty far, then pop back up. Attribute it to really strong coffee, or shorn fingernails, or a good album played loud on the Walkman, or a pile of work to do first thing, or that banana I ate before bed or that one understanding person on the boards last night, the one who agreed that the gay youth of the world need positive role models, and that if Moby is gay it would be so wonderful for him to �come out�. I think when this album ends I�ll have to replay it. Either that or the �Elvis� Golden Records� CD I brought. Hah! I have THREE Moby CDs coming to my mailbox any day now. That will be fun, yes? Oooo, Dirty Vegas, I wish they had more albums. What if their next album sucks? What will I do when I finish writing this? Finish proofreading, editing? Then what? I have too much energy to sit and read. I need a pottery wheel and some clay. Or a big hunk of metal and a blowtorch. Or one of those big yellow machines with the word CAT written on the side, the one with the big scoop on it, the scoop with the �teeth�. Am I in the wrong profession? I think I�m going to go into construction. Construction. I can wear jeans. I can sweat. I can wear a lot of sunscreen, plaid flannel in Winter. I can earn a LOT of money, eat lunch from a bag. Drink water from a communal jug. In little cups. Learn to operate big yellow machines� CAT. See? I love CATs. It�s me. I�m rambling. Cost of the War in Iraq
(JavaScript Error)
Recent Entries: It Was 40 Years Ago Today - 9:44 a.m. , Friday, Oct. 12, 2012 Dead Black Cat - 9:07 a.m. , Wednesday, Jan. 25, 2012 As Seen From Outer Space - 1:07 a.m. , Saturday, Dec. 05, 2009 I Survived to Tell the Tale - 7:29 a.m. , Friday, Sept. 18, 2009 Reading My Life - 12:55 p.m. , Saturday, Sept. 12, 2009 
  |