amw (amw) wrote,

Do you say "fuck" every morning?

I do. I wonder how many people's first word when they wake up is "FUCK". As in "fuck i overslept again" and "fuck i'm late for work" and "fuck i really don't want to work today". I know i'm good at my job, but man it sucks to have to force yourself out of bed every day for something that isn't a passion. Not that being a nerd isn't some perverse pleasure for me - i always read the tech news and stay aware of what's happening, and i regularly amaze my colleagues by sharing little gems of computing "wisdom" that i thought was common knowledge in the industry. But most mornings i just wish i could be home writing music or... or SOMETHING instead.

Do you want the New Year's story? I know you've all been waiting in anticipation. Well the plan was to stay home and go to sleep. I got the first part done. Until about 2am when i decided going out with some friends would be a good idea. And it was. We went to what's normally a morning club but was open early for NYE. Morning club means no alcohol, so i didn't have to suffer the usual drunken idiot thing, danced a bit, hung out a bit, went to recovery at a friend's place, got home the next morning sleepy as a .. sleepy thing. I then spent the rest of the day chatting to an old friend of mine. jenndolari, you rock :-)

Apparently unlike most people on my LJ friends list i actually like New Year's, i think more than any other holiday. Sure, it's just an arbitrary digit rollover, but for me it's a time to reminisce and think about the future and get all depressed about the past. While i was talking to Jenn (who i've known longer than anyone in real life OR online), i started digging up some of my older computer archives. I don't have much pre-2000, but i do have snippets of lyrics and stories and diaryish things. The weird thing is, i don't have much post-2001 either. Through most of 2002 i was with T, and since then i've just been... alive... and not much else.

I used to have a book next to my bed that i would scribble in when i woke up from a dream that cried out to become a story. How many story outlines do i have? How many characters? Sometimes i'd even write music into the book from melodies and rhythms i heard in my dreams. And sometimes it was just a place to write lists or journal entries much like this (except interesting). The book itself is over ten years old, though the first entry is some time in 2000. The previous bedside books were thrown out along with all my pre-2000 computer data. Yesterday i put that book next to my bed again. But at this rate it looks like all that's going to be in there is a daily scrawl of "fuck".
Tags: career, looking back, raving

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