It's a quarter past midnight, my kitchen is a quarter packed,* and most of the annoying financial disentanglement calculations have been done. I need to get up early tomorrow so I can change my rental car since mine is still in the shop, and then get in medium-early to work, which has gone all urgent but rudderless in the past week. I should get some sleep soon, or as much as I can with this nasty headcold.

It's not my week.

Commedia also totally sucked this evening, due to a mess of creative differences on the show that I am co-bidding for mid-October. Maybe that's a stupid plan...

*Have I mentioned I'm moving on Saturday? Well, I am.
Tomorrow (technically tonight, whatever) I'll be off to Vegas in a happy neon haze. So tonight's when I get the misgivings out of the way.

Back in November I said to [ profile] new_man "do you want to skip Vegas and go back down south?", but I didn't really have enough time off to go down for another week, and less wouldn't really be worth it, so we planned to go have fun instead. As it turns out, even without impacting my job hunt or social calendar I could have taken off this week and next — it's hard not to think that I should have called him up a week ago and changed our plans. That even now we could change our minds and get a week of work done. I know that's not realistic at this point, and I know that we've "done enough", but I don't want to feel like I've done my part and I can ignore it. I want the job to be done. I don't know when I'll have another good chance to do something about it.

Oh, well. I'm going to Vegas, I'm not going to feel bad about it while I'm there, and I probably won't feel guilty about it later. I'm as entitled to have fun as anyone else. But... It's been a sucky week, and I could have spent it building houses rather than gazing at my navel.
learnedax: (dave)
Sigh. It's one of those weekends.

I think it suffices to say that for me bleak weather and ample time to introspect is always a bad combination.
learnedax: (dave)

Ordinary fuckin' people. I hate 'em. An ordinary person spends his life avoiding tense situations. A repoman spends his life getting into tense situations.
The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation.
Well, do you ever get the feeling that the story's
too damn real and in the present tense?
Or that everybody's on the stage, and it seems like
you're the only person sitting in the audience?
And did you exchange
A walk on part in the war
For a lead role in a cage?
So we shall let the reader answer the question for himself. Who is the happier man, he who has braved the storm of life and lived, or he who has stayed securely on shore and merely existed?



November 2011

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