Steve Vai on being a successful guitarist
Off to boring ol’ work. There’s rings that need designin’.
A lot of exciting things are happening in my world, but not to me. Arian’s moving in two days, which will be fantastic. She and Dan and I got most everything packed last night, which was less intimidating than I recall. The furniture will be a pain, but hopefully three young adults and a uHaul will be sufficient without too much added stress. Not to mention it won’t be the middle of summer this time.
The store is finally updating itself into the correct century (give or take ten years) and I will hopefully get to play some part in that transition. It will also allow a lot more analytical and creative marketing, which is the kind of job I’d love to have, but at this point it still looks like I won’t be making any big career shifts. Shame, job satisfaction sounds like something I might really get into.
And it’s almost spring, which means no more of this sporadic slushiness on the roads. This is very good. I also have a few “spring cleaning” plans of my own that are currently only known to a couple of people, but I’m really hoping will pan out into something enjoyable.
Let’s all keep our fingers crossed.
Yet nother day begins with sore ankles and a slight headache. Am I not sleeping enough?
The semester is about to begin and I am not there for it. This I like. This I also dislike. Not a very logical combo. I couldn’t be happier to be done with my degree, but now it’s work work work and there are still things I’d like to learn. I want to take music classes, have time to practice, cook more, do stuff. But I don’t. I have Wednesdays and the last half of Sundays.
And I love my job, but the parts of it that I’m really there for, that I’ve been promised since I took it in the first place, just aren’t happening, and that’s starting to become more and more frustrating. I am easily bored, espeially when we’re low on customers, and I was never supposed to be trapped on the sales floor all day five days a week.
Then again, things are what you make them. Let’s see what we can do.
One of the most legendary and brilliantly written Batman sagas of all time begins with a prison break that pitts the dark knight against hundreds of his former foes in an effort to wear him down. He triumphs, but only at the expense of his physical health and mental edge. He is ragged and suffering already by the time he goes up against the mastermind himself, and this leads to his being easily beaten and broken.
That’s about how I feel right now. I’m still moving, but it would be nice to stay in bed. To rest. Just a little. Feeling better doesn’t mean not still sick, and this work thing is really dragging me through the streets.
Second day back to work after my lovely, ear infection induced head cold put me out of commission (literally) for three of the busiest days of the year. I am a little worried about going back, since I need to be resting, and a little bit unwilling, since I have all these fun new toys here at home (GarageBand on my iPad and Skyrim on my Xbox, can I hear an amen?), but such is the way of the world.
Wish me luck little surfers.
Today was Christmas eve, which means that Arian and the parents and I opened our gifts to one another so that tomorrow can officially focus on the youngest member of the family and me more quick, quiet, etc.
Suffice to say that it has already been a fantastic Christmas, even if I am spending it sick.
Everyone actually managed to surprise each other this year. Everyone also got fantastic gifts. Arian got the nice set of Harry Potter hardbacks that she’s wanted for years, and plenty of shiny glittery objects as per her request. I got a fantastically Batman holiday, along with a homemade gift, some clothing, and -the gift which I never expected at all- a brand new iPad. I feel like such a member of my generation now, it’s crazy. Mom got tons of things to open, also including some one of a kind gifts as well as her usual assortment of flamingo themed goodies, and even my father got a couple of gifts that I think he genuinely will appreciate.
So now I go to bed rather happy and excited for tomorrow, even if I do feel like crud at this very moment.
Speaking of which, I suppose it is worth mentioning, that yesterday I worked myself to exhaustion in spite of my sickly condition and ended up going to the clinic afterwards for shots and antibiotics. Let’s hope those kick in soon!
That’s all for now.
55 hours of work until Christmas. Maybe more depending on how late we have to stay.
I’m tired, stressed, and might be getting sick. Merry Christmas to me.
On the bright side, I have officially graduated! Won’t have the physical diploma until mid-January, but I have walked the stage and aced my classes and I am out.
Time to go crawl to work.
My degree is all but in my hands, so I have bought books. I can finally read for myself. Things that actually matter.
My favorite professor from this semester, who taught us British Literature through 1800 (which is exactly as interesting as it sounds unless you have a good teacher, and still not as fun as, say, jet skiing) ended by giving us an entire class in which he taught “poetry I like, stuff written in the 20th century, stuff I don’t have to get approved.”
It was a precursor to the rest of my life in some ways. Not in a Dead Poet Society way like it actually changed my course in life, but just that it acted as a good metaphor. Being an English major is like that. You pick out metaphors.
The point is, I can enjoy reading again. I can only write about things when I care about them.
Perhaps I can write again.
Today is my last day of classes. Only one more final will stand between me and freedom.
