First and foremost, I'd like to apologize to my fan base the fifteen friends who once frequented this web site that I've been M.I.A the last few months. While my absence has been disgracefully neglectful, I do have an acceptable excuse, although I regret to inform you that it does not involve zombie apocalypse preparations or herding cats on a free range, cat sanctuary called Everyday is Caturday. The reason I have been an online no-show is because I got a new job.
Conforming to a new job after doing five years of night shift has graded "intermediate" on the difficulty scale, but I'm adapting, and since this *is* the internet, I guess that wraps up all discussion I will ever share regarding my new job.
What else have I been doing (since I became creatively numb)?
After receiving an at-work phone call on February 29th letting me know that I had 30 days to vacate my condo because the soul-sucking, corporate wiener-faces changed their minds about letting me stay another six months due to their astounding success at weaseling stupid (and I mean that tenderly) young people into "renting to own" their overpriced, piece of shit, botched-plumbing infected, oops-- the ceiling caved in, wanna-be high-class condo units. I wasn't exactly devastated. This meant that my precious Facebook time would be freed from the responsibility of posting hourly, sailor-talk ridden, condo complex crucifixions about the latest condo-related drama I was pissed off about. Finally I could get back things that were important, like sharing internet cat memes, and sexually objectifying Ryan Gosling.
Despite making four donation drop offs at Value Village prior to moving, and throwing out enough useless, hoarder-esque crap to make me feel like I was single handedly going to be that asshole who destroys planet earth, moving day was still The Worst Day of My Life (since the last time I moved), and I swear to the internet, here and now, that I will never again move without hiring professional movers. Thank you for all your help, family, but you can now breathe a sigh of relief that you'll never have to move my shit again. On a positive note, I didn't experience my ceremonial melt down until the day after I moved, and unlike the last time I moved, when I wandered around my new place, disoriented from sleep deprivation with my pants around my ankles while I searched for toilet paper and bawled, this melt down was short lived and I had my pants on.
Final verdict: I love my new place, and my current landlord is key.
I have recently resumed a common practice referred to as "sleeping," although my body has yet to accept that 7:00 AM is not woo-hoo, just got off work time, or that I am not a senior citizen, and maybe I don't have to wake up at 7:00 AM every weekend to crotchet, make scones for my imaginary grandchildren, and watch 100 Huntley Street.
3. Trying to dress like an adult
This is another work in progress. Most days I can fake it, but some days, like last Friday, I throw a chunky necklace over a Rage Against the Machine t-shirt and I'm like, no one will ever notice.
4. Reading and journaling
I just finished a book called The Journal of Helene Berr, and I was inspired to start a private journal (again), largely because it seemed like a no-rules way to keep pen to paper during my "creative winter." I can confidently say that my current journal is the first journal I've ever written that isn't strictly a daily report on Why Boys Are Disappointing.
5. Watching Twin Peaks
Speaking of being disappointed in people, I'm disappointed that none of my elders bothered to inform me how awesome Twin Peaks is, seeing as how I was too young to understand it when it aired. A simple, "duuude, you n-e-e-d to watch Twin Peaks when you reach adulthood" from my mother would have meant a lot to me. Or an "OMG, it's, like, totally Lynchian, except unlike David Lynch's movies, it has a PLOT, and doesn't play out like a really, really, really, really bad drug trip," from my father would have been appreciated, too. Thank you, internet, you're always there to guide me towards therapeutically smutty entertainment when my proudly un-hip parents let me down.
Interesting factoid to bring this blog post full circle - The first time I saw Twin Peak's character, Lucy Moran in action, I thought, hmm, look at that-- exactly how I perceive myself at my new job.
Check out 2:54-3:20, 3:36- 3:50, and 4:13-4:50, to be precise: