Friday #33
Its Friday, yet again, just like it was seven days ago. I really don't know why I get so excited about Fridays. I know I won't be doing anything special after work - no going out, going to a show, no going out or for drinks. Not even out for a cup of coffee. It's not that I know that I get to sleep in tomorrow, because I don't. This is our last weekend of treating the animals. Finally.
But I am in a pretty good mood nonetheless. Maybe because there is the dim hope that r and will actually do something different. That maybe I won’t pass out at 7pm from exhaustion. Its been really interesting experiencing boredom the way I imagine most people feel it. I didn't understand before - the desire to go out, party, socialize, enjoy. Yup, it didn't make sense to me. But I get it now. Before, in my past life as a motivated person, my path was clear. I enjoyed making my work, and because there was nothing else I wanted to do, everything else in life became either secondary or totally irrelevant.
But Now, now that I am a regular member of the working drones, I understand how people try and make it through day to day. It’s a craving to be fulfilled – and my initial impulse is to peg it as escapism, but it’s got to be more than that. I think it’s more akin to scooting closer to an ideal, to a more perfect life. What are you talking about beef? What I am talking about is the WANT for the company of strangers. The ability to introduce yourself as the person who you want to be and not having people discover you as the person you really are. Your lover knows you far too well for this. Your co-workers know you in that quotidian way that is like a chain around your neck. But a stranger knows nothing and can be anything. And what it really is, is trying to very carefully and responsibly live out a fantasy. Trying, but obviously failing.
Another recent development is the fact that I am reverting into the adolescence I would have had if I hadn't cared so much about what my extremely close knit group of friends thought. I have been on a late seventies punk mission, listening to whatever I possibly can. I have been telling stories about the crazy stuff I used to do in high school (which are admittedly not very crazy at all, but it looks like getting your tongue and nose pierced seem crazy to my co-workers) and if that weren't insane enough I have been fantasizing about getting a tattoo. Yes, I am in my own repressed way trying to take life by the balls. The problem is that I am NOT the bad ass I want so badly to be right now. I am a chicken shit with a steady job that I can't afford to lose.
But I am in a pretty good mood nonetheless. Maybe because there is the dim hope that r and will actually do something different. That maybe I won’t pass out at 7pm from exhaustion. Its been really interesting experiencing boredom the way I imagine most people feel it. I didn't understand before - the desire to go out, party, socialize, enjoy. Yup, it didn't make sense to me. But I get it now. Before, in my past life as a motivated person, my path was clear. I enjoyed making my work, and because there was nothing else I wanted to do, everything else in life became either secondary or totally irrelevant.
But Now, now that I am a regular member of the working drones, I understand how people try and make it through day to day. It’s a craving to be fulfilled – and my initial impulse is to peg it as escapism, but it’s got to be more than that. I think it’s more akin to scooting closer to an ideal, to a more perfect life. What are you talking about beef? What I am talking about is the WANT for the company of strangers. The ability to introduce yourself as the person who you want to be and not having people discover you as the person you really are. Your lover knows you far too well for this. Your co-workers know you in that quotidian way that is like a chain around your neck. But a stranger knows nothing and can be anything. And what it really is, is trying to very carefully and responsibly live out a fantasy. Trying, but obviously failing.
Another recent development is the fact that I am reverting into the adolescence I would have had if I hadn't cared so much about what my extremely close knit group of friends thought. I have been on a late seventies punk mission, listening to whatever I possibly can. I have been telling stories about the crazy stuff I used to do in high school (which are admittedly not very crazy at all, but it looks like getting your tongue and nose pierced seem crazy to my co-workers) and if that weren't insane enough I have been fantasizing about getting a tattoo. Yes, I am in my own repressed way trying to take life by the balls. The problem is that I am NOT the bad ass I want so badly to be right now. I am a chicken shit with a steady job that I can't afford to lose.
posted by beef at 9:20 AM
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