Thursday, November 04, 2004
funny strange.
it's funny; my days are largely consumed with apartment hunting and wrestling and offers and math, and sometimes all i want in the world is to go home.
it's raining. and i managed to articulate something last night that made me terribly sad: i have hardly ever in my life spent less time doing what i love than i do right now.
i know i moved here because i thought, if the trying is categorically frustrating, better to push one's nose against a larger, more worthwhile wall. but a year and change in, i find myself hungrier than i would have believed for the sort of unpaid, schedule-breaking work with good people that i managed to score once in a while my last couple years in seattle. i'd give my eye-teeth for that.
so i'm making a resolve to be active, to scout some worthwhile scrappy companies, to eat cookies once in a while and remember that lots of people have it worse. but on days like today, i just want to be home--where, even if no one wanted to pay me for my talents, they at least wanted to make shit up and play dressup with me and drink some jack daniel's afterwards. where there were trees around, too, and i could drive home to my folks' house on the weekends and take long baths. and where my friends are currently having babies whom i have never met.
it's fine. i'm not pouting (very much). and i will not be friendly if you throw this in my face later, and i still want us to buy a nice apartment here. but since someone was just saying that you should definitely tell the universe what you want because sometimes the universe comes through big: i want to shake my thing again. i want it bad.
it's raining. and i managed to articulate something last night that made me terribly sad: i have hardly ever in my life spent less time doing what i love than i do right now.
i know i moved here because i thought, if the trying is categorically frustrating, better to push one's nose against a larger, more worthwhile wall. but a year and change in, i find myself hungrier than i would have believed for the sort of unpaid, schedule-breaking work with good people that i managed to score once in a while my last couple years in seattle. i'd give my eye-teeth for that.
so i'm making a resolve to be active, to scout some worthwhile scrappy companies, to eat cookies once in a while and remember that lots of people have it worse. but on days like today, i just want to be home--where, even if no one wanted to pay me for my talents, they at least wanted to make shit up and play dressup with me and drink some jack daniel's afterwards. where there were trees around, too, and i could drive home to my folks' house on the weekends and take long baths. and where my friends are currently having babies whom i have never met.
it's fine. i'm not pouting (very much). and i will not be friendly if you throw this in my face later, and i still want us to buy a nice apartment here. but since someone was just saying that you should definitely tell the universe what you want because sometimes the universe comes through big: i want to shake my thing again. i want it bad.
