So I put down my headphones for a few weeks, and when I came back, it was nothing but butts, butts, butts.
Waited so long to contact my driving instructor again that he’s no longer working with the school.
Not unworkable, but pretty funny. The last thing I need though is another thing to inspire procrastination. Put this as another tally in the “should’ve done this 10 years ago” file.
is that he directs fight scenes better (and more creatively) than almost any current director out there
lipsarecopperwire said: Hey bud. How ya doin?
Glad you asked, Kateo. Glad you asked.
Better than you might think, but undeniably rattled. On our last day of business, I was remarking how my other co-workers mostly all had jobs lined up, and she said “Well, have you looked?” (Not really) “Then shut up.” Well. It’s one thing to go out and find another meaningless bullshit job, it’s quite another to have to sit down with yourself and ask “What do you really want to be? And how do you become that?” This is my time to do that.
I have been writing outline after outline, just trying to lay groundwork so I can get some shit done because it’s becoming immensely clear that without process, without preparation, I don’t have much. But I’ve got a lot done. Well, maybe not done-done, but started.
I have my doubts that I have a future. I have a lot of doubts about my ability. But the impulse, the need to write is there anyway. So I’ve gotten some shit done.
I’ve also been drinking - much more heavily tonight than usual (although I also have a fairly weak constitution lately) so I should stay away from social media of all strips but here we are.
I don’t feel super awesome, Kate, but I already didn’t, so meh. Hardcore meh.
But thank you. Thank you for checking in.
I’ll let my life become a wreck
Take my hands off the wheel for a sec
Drift into the next lane
Hope it don’t cause any pain
Hope I find a little solace
Strip life a little of its polish
Take a drink and drift to sleep
Scrawl some words that try too hard to be deep
I went to the bar last night for the same reason people listen to sad music, I guess. So I could have some measure of control over the manner in which I was bummed out. I could have reached out to a friend and seen if they wanted to come along, but I simply didn’t feel like bothering. It was one of those rare times I went out alone just to see what would happen, with the full understanding that what was going to happen was nothing.
I was not disappointed on that score. The place was actually kind of dead for a Friday night, although maybe 9-10 is a bit early to expect things to be jumping. It was mostly dudes playing pool - one dude had gotten the faceplate taken off the ball return and was shooting endless rounds by himself - and couples, maybe some group dates. As I watched the end of the Jays game, a couple came to the table next to me and started arguing. I couldn’t hear all the details over the music, but she saying something about, “I can’t believe you would think something so stupid was true.” I think the gist of it had to do with someone spreading a rumour that she had been in a porno or done a sextape or something. She literally used the phrase “How dare he.” After a while maybe they realized I was trying to eavesdrop, so they moved to a different table.
I walked home drowsy after one pint, talking out loud to myself about old relationships, as long as I was alone on the sidewalk. At home I flopped down on the couch, put some old TV series on Netflix and drifted off.
Unemployment is gonna be weird.
Okay, it’s Friday night. Think I’ll torment myself by going to the bar and not interacting with anyone.
Andy Samberg has coaxed me into a robbery. We are dressed as KISS. I find that the makeup smears very badly. The plan blows up in the set-up stages.
Later, I bring a Game of Thrones Lamp, which I acquired from work, to the comic store and accidentally leave it there. It exists in reality, I got it for free because a bunch of the spikes were snapped off the Iron Throne and we were just gonna toss it out. So I have this situation where I have to prove I own this lamp that they’re trying to sell but I don’t have any kind of receipt for it.