there's something to be said for getting wasted on nothing. on thinking about nothing. but not the thinking about nothing that comes from chemical excess, not blackouts, not extemperaneous slurring carnival slideshows where the whole world is underwater and hours are reduced to two or three polaroids. no, I'm talking more about freed-up real estate. being free from the steel trap of my mind, from the circulating thoughts and the spent energy and the second guessing and the endless tailspin of crazy.
I haven't been shooting much, not to say I don't break out the p&s here and there, but I haven't been doing any shows or events or anything. I've been all hung up on work, coming in early, staying late, giving 110% and getting practically giddy from the focus. I think this is what they mean, when they talk about the service work and how it saves your life. I also think this is what they mean when they talk about callings and dharma, but I generally can't talk about that without sounding like a lunatic.
I work for a guy who is only 3 or 4 years older than me, who has a pre-teen and a new wife and a new baby. it would be strange to me to have that much now, mostly because I've stopped comparing myself to what's around me and wondering where I'm falling short, instead I get all thankful and happy that I am the way I am and I think about how amazing it is that we're all different and painting our own little colors into everything. he's one of those people that just goes through everything like a tornado, everything is now and solution-oriented and executed with more people skills than most of us will hope to ever see in a lifetime inside of one of his weeks. he's got this fierce, crazy enthusiasm that's completely addictive, but only to a few people who can tune in - everyone else thinks he's off his rocker. and seemingly that I am too for jumping onboard his ship. but it's starting to seem like a big waste of time to sit around thinking useless thoughts and... well, and wasting time.
today I asked if I needed business cards. he talked about how I might not, but how it would seem unprofessional to not have one in a moment where I needed one. I told him we could hold off since they were still evaluating whether or not I'd be there permanently, ninety percent kidding, ten percent testing. he told me to email pam to order the cards. I ordered the cards. and left the proof for him to sign, sometime around 5 in the morning tomorrow when he gets into the office. I'll follow up for about 6:45, taking an hour to get the day ramped up and to get both of us organized so we're full steam ahead by the time it's 8. and then - then I kind of lose the day. I plow through whatever we came up with, fielding about eighteen different distractions in as many minutes every half-hour, learning on the fly. formatting excel files out of my ass. making power point presentations six minutes before meetings with millionaires. and in between there is laughter, and an interlocked team, and nights like last night after the opening of a symposium about molecular whatevers with a bunch of people who've known each other for years practically doubling over with laughter about everything. EVERYTHING. they joked this morning about how they thought I might not make it back in after all that. I mean, they were talking about felching and passing out irish car bombs. I am not exaggerating.
tomorrow I think I'm driving the most expensive car I've ever been in up (down?) aurora to get emissions done. right. I just looked it up to get a gauge, and I wish I hadn't. depending on the year, it's got a rough median price of about $75,000.00. I shit you not. I don't think I've made that much money in the last three years of my life. not even gross. holy beans.
I've kind of been rendered speechless here. I'm not quite sure what to do right now. I suppose it's time to go to bed and wake up excited about work again tomorrow. if I can keep from throwing up on myself (and hitting anything with this fucking car). I'm not real religious, but I think I'll be reciting a few hail-somethings before I get behind the wheel.
this is my life. damien jurado tweeted at me. eric corson goes to shows where I go to shows. everything is everywhere, everything is within reach, kristin's across the bridge, and the world is springing up at my feet.
I'll fucking take it.
hearts, and flowers, and amg box-cut 12 mpg wagons,
viva
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