duck-shaped pain

Where I Have A Surplus of Employment

What a hellish week. The Big Project That Cannot Be Named [1] is in full swing again at my regular job, and I've taken on another project, that of assembling 58 guidebooks and various posters and photographs for an oil-company seminar this weekend. Thank god the latter will be over today -- the former threatens to turn into an endless spiral of proofing and rewriting and delegating and discussing, at the end of which (if there is ever an end), if I survive, I might have enough money to pack up and MOVE from here.

This has all been eating away at my personal time. Normally, I like to keep the work part and other parts of my life completely separate, which allows me to enjoy each of them much better than if they were muddled up together. This week, though, there's been work to bring home every night (which makes me feel like I'm in sixth grade again, really) and guidebooks to assemble in my "spare" time. Too much work and not enough sitting on the couch with a glass of wine and/or coffee (depending on the time of day) makes me very, very grumpy. [2]

If there's anything I've learned over the last few years, it's that I need some completely uninterrupted time to myself each day, and that I'm willing to go out of my way to get it. Sometimes this means getting up early the early morning hours where the only things stirring are me and the coffee maker are some of my favorites. Early-morning light makes everything look appealing even instant oatmeal and the local paper. If I manage to get up early enough and I'm the only one around, morning can be the highlight of my day.

Conversely, I also like staying up late. Not 11 p.m. late, or even midnight (those are usual bedtimes for me), but 2 or 3 a.m. late. When it's just me, my newest favorite book, and a good CD, movie or (last resort) fascinating late-night TV. It's strange the only times I can write in my paper journal while in the house are at these times. I also write what I think are some of the best entries here at those times. You might not agree, though. Other times of the day, in order to write, I have to get out of the house. It might be at the bagel shop, at the Ginormous Chain Bookstore in one of their big chairs, in the car, at someone else's house it just has to be somewhere other than where I live. Daylight and mid-afternoon at my house just make me think of things I need to GET DONE, which is not very interesting to write about, if you ask me.

I usually spend my time driving to and from work each day listening to one song, over and over. My love of listening to the same song repeatedly is one reason why I should probably always live by myself: no one else should ever have to put up with hearing something over and over and over and over and over until they want to scream. This week's selection has been "Blond Adonis" by the Future Bible Heroes. Repeated listens to it have just confirmed my new theory that any song with the word "autobahn" in it is just silly. [3]

[1] 7 out of 8 non-disclosure agreements agree!

[2] Not like I can complain too much. If you read some of the much-older entries here, like the June through July ones, I complain heartily and often about not having enough work. I am never satisfied, it seems.

[3]Yes, even "Autobahn."

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