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Apr. 7th, 2003 07:12 amHello journal my old friend, I've come to talk to you again because a vision softly creeping left its seeds while I was sleeping, and a vision that was planted in my brain still remains, within the sounds of silence
I'm in a bit of a funk. It's annoying, because I know exactly why I'm in a funk, and I know how to get myself out of the funk, but I seem incapable of doing so until I've served my alloted time in funkytown. It's irksome.
In short, I'm sullen because I don't like dealing with reality. Or more precisely, I require inertia to deal with reality, and at the moment, I have none. I've just about used up the comfortable loafing part of unemployment (yes, EA finally got around to laying off all the rest of the part timers, much to my much delayed relief), and am well into the "Gah! Starvation! Destitution! Lions and Tigers and Bears! Oh my!" phase of the cycle. But I'm such a torporific font of otiosity that it's difficult to motivate down the path of eventual employment. Mainly because I hate the process with such a blinding passion, and I've found myself in a career path that I'm, at best, only passingly interested in, so it's not like I even really want a job.
I do however want a paycheck, so somehow I'm going to need to twiddle the brightness level in my head until my world view goes from an Eeyoresque "Need to find job to survive to keep working until one day I die and don't have to worry about it anymore." to more of a "Need to find job because that will allow me to do all of the things I do enjoy doing, so just smile and play the game" mentality. Because if I don't, there's really not much point in even interviewing. I've interviewed in moods like this before, and it's not pretty (even less pretty than interviewing is usually). I have actually responded to the question "So, why do you want to work here?" with "Well, I don't really, but I sure could use the money". People say honesty is a virtue. These people are clearly self employed.
Anyway, the above drivel looks pathetic even to me, so I can just imagine how much everyone else will enjoy it. On to happy things.
A whole passel of us went to New Orleans. This was my first real grown up vacation (not counting Burning Man), and it was oodles of fun. Not that I wasn't expecting it to be, but by nature I'm sort of a huge homebody, and traveling has never particularly appealed to me. The whole current absence of a home situation sort of changed that perspective though. And in another sense, I took the best part of home with me, because a big group of us went. Val and the Baron Markonnen, Dan and Ceren, Muffalo and Muffaletta, and Fifi the Horrible and myself. As you can see, much ludicrous nicknaming ensued.
New Orleans is nice. People are in general nicer. Once I become an eccentric zillionaire, I'm going to airlift in the block of Decatur street that contains the best late night/all night food place I've gone to since Sparky's stopped serving pizza, a goth club (well, goth bar) where all of my requests got played as the very next song, and a bartender who bought us almost as many drinks as we bought from her (sidenote, it's actually possible for me to get drunk on 30$ in those circumstances).
Also, the cheesecake is better there.
I didn't take any pictures, but Val's got some linked off her journal, including some well and truly atrocious ones of me. And at least two that I actually like.
I'd fill in more about the trip, but it's late and I need to sleep soon. It was better than Cats though. I'd see it again and again. Especially with friends.
In other happy making news, it looks like I might be east bay bound later this month. Uncertain as of yet though. Will fill in details when they come. It'll be very wee, so I can't promise housewarming extravaganzas, but once there's a place again, there can be people over. I miss having people over.
Lalalala. Right. It's bright. That means I'm going to sleep.
I'm in a bit of a funk. It's annoying, because I know exactly why I'm in a funk, and I know how to get myself out of the funk, but I seem incapable of doing so until I've served my alloted time in funkytown. It's irksome.
In short, I'm sullen because I don't like dealing with reality. Or more precisely, I require inertia to deal with reality, and at the moment, I have none. I've just about used up the comfortable loafing part of unemployment (yes, EA finally got around to laying off all the rest of the part timers, much to my much delayed relief), and am well into the "Gah! Starvation! Destitution! Lions and Tigers and Bears! Oh my!" phase of the cycle. But I'm such a torporific font of otiosity that it's difficult to motivate down the path of eventual employment. Mainly because I hate the process with such a blinding passion, and I've found myself in a career path that I'm, at best, only passingly interested in, so it's not like I even really want a job.
I do however want a paycheck, so somehow I'm going to need to twiddle the brightness level in my head until my world view goes from an Eeyoresque "Need to find job to survive to keep working until one day I die and don't have to worry about it anymore." to more of a "Need to find job because that will allow me to do all of the things I do enjoy doing, so just smile and play the game" mentality. Because if I don't, there's really not much point in even interviewing. I've interviewed in moods like this before, and it's not pretty (even less pretty than interviewing is usually). I have actually responded to the question "So, why do you want to work here?" with "Well, I don't really, but I sure could use the money". People say honesty is a virtue. These people are clearly self employed.
Anyway, the above drivel looks pathetic even to me, so I can just imagine how much everyone else will enjoy it. On to happy things.
A whole passel of us went to New Orleans. This was my first real grown up vacation (not counting Burning Man), and it was oodles of fun. Not that I wasn't expecting it to be, but by nature I'm sort of a huge homebody, and traveling has never particularly appealed to me. The whole current absence of a home situation sort of changed that perspective though. And in another sense, I took the best part of home with me, because a big group of us went. Val and the Baron Markonnen, Dan and Ceren, Muffalo and Muffaletta, and Fifi the Horrible and myself. As you can see, much ludicrous nicknaming ensued.
New Orleans is nice. People are in general nicer. Once I become an eccentric zillionaire, I'm going to airlift in the block of Decatur street that contains the best late night/all night food place I've gone to since Sparky's stopped serving pizza, a goth club (well, goth bar) where all of my requests got played as the very next song, and a bartender who bought us almost as many drinks as we bought from her (sidenote, it's actually possible for me to get drunk on 30$ in those circumstances).
Also, the cheesecake is better there.
I didn't take any pictures, but Val's got some linked off her journal, including some well and truly atrocious ones of me. And at least two that I actually like.
I'd fill in more about the trip, but it's late and I need to sleep soon. It was better than Cats though. I'd see it again and again. Especially with friends.
In other happy making news, it looks like I might be east bay bound later this month. Uncertain as of yet though. Will fill in details when they come. It'll be very wee, so I can't promise housewarming extravaganzas, but once there's a place again, there can be people over. I miss having people over.
Lalalala. Right. It's bright. That means I'm going to sleep.
