Spent a lot of the day editing some shit at work.
The half-full glass part of that reality is life is a hunky dory festival where I get to do shit I don't suck at, that interests me and you know takes a spare brain cell or two. Better than digging ditches, a pay check and some semblance to being/doing shit I care about — namely writing. I didn't 100 percent embrace what I was editing, 'cuz at the end of the day some shit about domestic policy and blah blah congressional decision makers is going to get a bit dry. Not to mention, trying to convince social scientist types that "capacity building" is the kind of windy phrase signifying absofuckinglutely nothing and best avoided is a fool's errand.
The downside, the empty glass, is the phrase I like to torment the old boss with — working above my paygrade. Try as I fucking might, no one at any job just lets me make the copies, staple the pages, label the files and call it a day. Nope, I gets all the extra credit, thinking hard shit to do after a while.
The koan is, I guess, can I ever live my slack, lackadaisical dream? Or am I destined to get into the overachieving groove?
The real shit part for me is the slacker dream is one in which I work at a survivable pay rate but with just enough work to pay the bills and give me a rich and full personal life with hours enough to work on all the crazy ass projects and stories and comedy bits cramming the gray matter and itching to get out. But, I found a day job where the goal is really supposed to be helping the goddamn world and all the folks starving in it.
Check it and imagine the inherent conflict — Time enough to waste my own time ostensibly creating art, likely creating dreck or maybe innocent little divertissements, versus spending time helping the children, the varicolored human rainbow of suffering out there in the universe, with a little bit of making a dent in the establishment, fighting the man and selfish policies thrown in for fun and raising hell sport. Think of the children.
Over a year in to the gig, and I still haven't figured out the right balance. 'Course it doesn't help that the last couple of comedy shows have felt like, "eh, what's the point." I gotta find a mustang to get back on and ride.
its nice to know your out there saving the planet for us poor folks
im sure we are suppposed to get it in the end anyway
i always think the best thing that will happen to anyone is they become a trace fossil
still life is yours to do with as you please
have a good one
dave
Yeah, Dave. As always, your eye is on the ball, and that ball is the true bead of human existence.
Why the fuck should I care about babies with distended bellies in countries I may never see? I should do something important, like screw in lightbulbs and other important electrician tasks.
hey ill have you know im busy oiling the industrial needs of your great nation we make the bits all you old ladies need when u slip on the ice of life
i can do you a great deal on an artificial hip when u fall girl
dv ea