| 9 March |
Angst: I Thought I Was Too Old For This Crap |
Paradise Circus by Massive Attack is playing.
“The Devil makes us sin but we like it when we’re spinning in his grin.”
Transformative moments are so rare as you get older. Things slow down to predictable speeds. You go to work. You hang out and read. You sleep, eat, and poop. All of these are predictable.
Just look at the math.
There are 24 hours in a day. I wake up at 6:45. I leave the house for work at 7:30. My commute is 30 minutes getting me to work at 8am. I take a small, 30 minute break off campus each day. I leave work at 4:30 and arrive home at 5pm. I walk the dog until 6 and prepare diner until 6:30. I feed the cats. The rest of the night, say until midnight is mine. That leaves 5.5 hours that are uniquely mine. If you add my 30 minute break and hour of drive time that makes 7 hours that I am not sleeping or owned by someone else. Really, the stress of a commute and my lunch break shouldn’t count.
5.5 hours.
How can one find the time to inspire themselves, feel creative, be healthy and grow in the time it takes to watch two movies?
Dunno.
All I know is I have forced myself to reprogram my brain a bit. I listen to more music and actively seek new music. I am drawing again and recently started a doodle sketchbook that I write short poems and draw my versions of people. I make sure I take at least a fleeting moment to commit a word or two to here or any number of other places like these:
Blog – Stories, Art, Music
RedNotebook – Deeply personal, diary-like stuff
Facebook – Shoutouts to my peeps (shoot me)
Twitter – General Assholery
Foobar, Grooveshark, Blip.fm – Music
Reddit, Metafilter, BoingBoing, Lifehacker, Warren Ellis – Knowledge and Sanity
Changes are coming. Hopefully some professional ones and some real-life ones are on the horizon. I know I don’t often get personal here but sometimes it is a really good place to vent. I feel like one of these dudes who only figure out how to live every 17 years:
I promise my next post will be an inappropriate picture or some story about a Baltimore crackhead trying to cross the harbor by walking on water. I promise.




