Because I’m busy, damn it

When I actually have had the opportunity to see my own website, it hasn’t gone past me that the last time I posted anything was six days ago.  Considering the earnest effort I’ve put into being a somewhat consistent brogger, six days is a fairly considerable length of time, given the fact that in the old iteration of things, I used to mostly post maybe once a month in the worst of times.

The simple fact has been that I’ve been busy working.  Which, given the current state of me, is a very good thing; long story short, I’m pretty hurting right now in the wallet.  A dry spell on the freelance front, as well as yet another change of the mortgage lender (and their subsequent payment policies) has me playing a lot closer to the heart than I have done in over two years.  So, I’m not complaining that I’ve turned in a solid 41-hour work week, and am going to do as many hours as I can this week, even with Dragon-con looming ahead this weekend, even if it more or less means that I haven’t had much time to keep up with my writing.

When I haven’t been working, I haven’t really done a whole lot since last week.  It’s more or less been the same old on a regular basis – wake up, run, lift weights, shower, eat cereal, go to work, work, come home, eat dinner, play Left 4 Dead, go to bed.  Every now and then, I’ve watched some baseball, or watched some other show, but not a whole lot else.  What can I say, I’ve been boring lately; given the financial woes, I’m finding it best to be a little dormant.

But anyway, since I had a somewhat passable time last year, I’m actually looking forward to Dragon-con this year.  Like last year, more or less plan on showing up to the convention in the evenings, and loitering around the lobby of the Marriott.  I will likely do a good bit of drinking out of a glass boot, possibly carry around a wrestling title belt, and hope to see some familiar faces, friends, acquaintances, Miranda LawsonsJill ValentinesKelly Chambers, other hot chicks, and funny costumes that remind me of my childhood and/or better times.

Hopefully, as things settle down after the convention and this work schedule, I will get back to doing some more regular writing; admittedly, I have a few ideas of things I’d like to write, but just can’t quite seem the time to make things work.  If and when things get worse financially, there are bound to be thousands of words to be unleashed when I go into full financial stay-at-home lockdown mode.  But until then, it’s back to being busy, poorly multi-tasking, being social and shit, and not writing.

 

Something substantial

Since I don’t really want to fall into a brogger’s rut of simply posting nothing but a picture and a quick blurb of words, on a daily basis, I sit down today to write.

A brogger’s rut isn’t the only thing that I’m risking falling into these days, because as much as I hate to admit it, I feel that I have fallen into a more proverbial life’s rut these last few weeks.  Ever since I returned from Chicago, I have struggled to get back into a sense of routine, comfort, and the resulting ease of mind that comes with doing the same shit on a regular basis.  I guess it wasn’t necessarily the fault of my trip to Chicago, but now that I think about it, kind of a result of events and happenings of this summer as a whole, perhaps.  Now I’m not going to say that my life is miserable and sucks by any stretch of the imagination, but at the same time I’m not going to ignore the facts, or at least hypothesis, that I might be a little depressed these days.

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Thoughts on job searching

When I am actively looking for work, I actually base my a part of my decision whether or not I’d want to work for a place, on if the company’s logo looks good.  I just saw a company’s logo being a whole bunch of faux-pixelated boxes with Myriad font in horrendous colors.  I calmly closed that tab.  And all I know is that I don’t ever want business cards, wherever I work; every time I have ever gotten business cards from a company, that has pretty much been the kiss of death for me.

Anyway, it’s back to normal life for me this week, hopefully.  Used the excuse of coming back from a road trip last week for throwing me off my schedule, routine, and spent too many days sleeping in, not jogging or lifting, and eating like a got-damn pig.  Getting back to some work would be nice.

Slaves to money

The assignment I’m currently working, I will admit that I am not that fond of.  It’s tedious, frustrating, and most certainly a perfect example of what happens when too many cooks are in the kitchen.  Obviously, I am grateful to be working for the money necessary to pay the bills, but when the day is over, I’m fairly certain I could get another assignment elsewhere if I decided to take my trade elsewhere.

Today’s story is that there was a possibility that myself, as well as the two other freelancers working on this project may have had to have come in on Sunday to help catch this place up.  Details are that it would have been on Sunday, from 10:00 a.m. to around 2-3:00 p.m., and the hours would not have been considered overtime.  However, these hours were not mandatory, and we could just as easily declined the weekend work if we simply did not want to work it.

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This is a story about a girl

I sit down to write, and I am aware that it is a volatile state of mind in which I do so.  I brog a fairly open glimpse into the happenings of my life, for whom, I am not quite sure.  I do not know if four people read my site on a regular basis, or if it there are fifty, or if there are a hundred.  Mostly, I do this for myself, because it’s something I picked up in 2001, and after this much time of fairly regular writing, I just can’t bring myself to ever stop completely.  It’s like a pet, that no matter what, I can’t neglect it, even if it pisses me off.

For those of you who actually do read my writing, and have had difficulty reading in between the lines, here is a brief summary: a girl showed up on my long-dormant radar, there was a spark, a brief period of burning, and then it was subdued; and slowly suffocated.  And today, eight weeks later, extinguished.

And writing about it seems like a good idea, for some reason.  This is one thing I’m doing to cope with it, and move on.

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I guess I’m a tool now

Now it’s obvious that my current preference in what I do with my hair is pretty much summed up in a fairly erratic, somewhat controlled spikiness to it.  My mom hates it, those friends who have bothered to comment upon it have said they think it’s hip and cool, and most importantly, I’m fairly happy with it.  In the past, I used hair gel to spike it, to which it would gradually fade as they day progressed, and my hair would revert back to a limp fluff.  I moved onto this styling putty that my hair cutting lady used on me once after a cut, which seemed to be more effective, and sure enough it lasts a little bit longer, but by day’s end, it’s the same result.

I saw a commercial one day for a product that was different than the others, and I have to admit that I was intrigued.  Problem was, it was an AXE product, and as anyone who watches a modicum of television knows that AXE products are geared and targeted to the douchebag market of men, since most of them are the most narcissistic and conscious about their appearances.  I don’t know what that says about me, but I do like to make somewhat of an effort to appease myself, and maybe some others.

But anyway, I end up getting this AXE “messy look” stuff, which has the consistency of wax, but once you put it in your hair, well . . . It’s 1:04 am at the time I’m taking to actually write this, and my hair is still somewhat puffed up and spiky to when I originally did it at 8:15 am in the morning.  Fuckin’ incredible.

Now I know that’s about the gayest thing in the world for me to write about, boasting about an AXE hair product, but hey, if it gets the gears of writing moving, then so be it.

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When it’s this hot, people go a little crazy

And had I taken this picture 20 seconds sooner, it would have read “103F.”  Seriously, since I moved to Atlanta in 2003, I don’t think there’s ever been a summer this hot before.  And it’s only the end of June, and there is always the possibility that it could feasibly get hotter as the summer progresses.

Seriously, it’s pretty ridiculous how hot, miserable, humid and muggy it’s been the last few weeks.  I hardly want to go outside, and I’m amazed that I’ve still made the effort to trudge out of bed every morning, and jog, while the heat and misery is still a little bearable.  But I’m finding myself being influenced by the weather on all the things that I decide to do with my days.  People, with me as no exception, go crazy when things get too hot.

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