Relaxed.
Clarity.
History.
I miss friends.
Sunday is for writing.

Never the guy who was called
Tried too hard to fit in
To what was popular to me
And always to someone else’s chagrin

The end of seventh grade
Yearbook being signed by a “friend” who deemed me shadow
It may have been my first true brush with scorn
A first lesson that I’ve never been one to let go

The eternal question was born right then
Something deeper than a 13-year old should be dealt
Who knew deciphering friendships
Could leave such a welt.

I’ve always tried to be the one
Not in the popularity of class systems
But in my own self-learning mode
To see the shine of individual gems

And wonder today why it still feels the same
Like I’m still spread too thin
Amongst my friends
Who may really be no more than acquaintances within

My tainted mind nimble no more
Sitting in suburban comfort of tasks and obligations
Questioning if my kindred youthful adventure has passed me by
As if sequestered in my own time-sensitive oppressions

Wondering if I am still I.

A break;
A divergence;
Anything to break-up the routine
That keeps me entombed in the day
And trapped by time in the evening.
A something to break up the monotony
Of my none-too-topical writing
That has become all the same.
A focus spread too thin
And a waxy build-up
Quickly covering
The brightness from within;
My aging memory and blurred dreams
Dulled and crystallized simultaneously
By time;
Which accelerates at second per second rate
Leaving me perpetually a step behind.
Just a slight change
To rip open a small sliver of light
And lift the fog from my mind.

Live music. Beck. It's amazing how easily I have forgotten how live music drives my soul.

I’ve let it all fly on my blog over the last few months without care and I’m starting to wonder if I need to reel some this back in for myself. But there is something about writing something that could potentially be seen by anyone; the reality being that things are hardly ever seen. But the potential is there, especially when it comes to any potential prying eyes from work. This being one such entry I wouldn’t like to be seen.

I took a mental health day, which was tightly wrapped around the truth of my basement being flooded. I’m pretty sure everyone saw right through it, but you can’t really argue its legitimacy. Work hurts. My effort at work hurts. I’m a hurt soul right now. A soul that is having too much of a difficultly removing its mind from things, I’m unable to rise above it. But karma may have got me today.

I spilled this special paint all over the place in the hallway ruining a rug and putting yet another scare into myself and Tracy when Maggie got it all over herself. She’s fine, but I still feel horrible and I think, strangely enough, it is related to attention to detail, or my lack of it. I need out of this funk. And I need out of my job. And I need to make a better effort and pay attention. Focus.

And what the focus should be now is a matter of a Beck show to morrow night and friends all abound our house on Sunday. I need to let work melt away. I’ve got to learn to tune-out better. Which probably calls for mindless activity for the remainder of the night, which translates to some classic Nintendo.

The problem remains that I have too many goals and too little time. For instance, I am currently trying to work on the following:

· The peeps story
· Getting back on track writing some columns
· Soliciting informational interviews
· Searching for a new job
· Dealing with the stress of trying to do my best at my current job
· Household projects
· Learning to play bass
· Figuring out what to do with the summer
· Keeping in touch with friends
· Being a good husband
· A myriad of other little tasks
· Maintaining this blog

The problem, of course, is that it is impossible to fit all these into a 24-hour period, but it’s not without trying. Again, I need to set priorities, what do I go after first? Well, I’m still trying to keep options open and you can notice a common theme, they all relate to writing in some way. So, I’m simultaneously working on several fronts which isn't really an efficient means of production. However, being in the position to keep my options open is the light in all this. I needn’t look further than two-plus years ago to find a different, trapped scenario. I am referring to the beginning of my current job.

I won’t get into the fact I jumped to this job too early just as interview offers were starting to roll in, hindsight being what it is. And, I also needed to get out of the situation I was in and fast. Fortunately, my current situation isn’t as dire, no matter how much I feel otherwise at times.

What I do have is the luxury of being able to take my time looking for an avenue that feels right. But I need to not only prioritize, but also do so with a more diligent attitude so as not o leave myself feeling so scattered. And I need to do all this while working in some downtime for myself. Lately, it seems like things are rolling by in a tortoise-like nature, if that makes any sense. And being a slave to time, its after eleven and bed is needed.

Yoshimi is a damn fine album.

The paranoia is rising in me at work, I can't help it. It just seems like there is too much going on around me that doesn't invlove me and I am beginnign to wonder if they are trying to shape me out. But is it logic or paranoia and would it or a blessing? As always there are two sides to everthing with a whole bunch of uncertanty in the middle. The fact remains, i've always attempted to do what is asked of me, have never gotten guidance from above and my attempts to manage-up have been fruitless. Ah, this is just too much of a headache to discuss at bedtime.

Fifty-two bags of mulch later and I'm ready for bed. Of course, I didn't hit either party on Saurday, yard work killed me. My mind my still be limber and wild-eyed, but my body is starting to lag a bit behind. But, the up-front labor has been put into the yard and with just a few more things to do, we'll be done and only have to maintain. Which hopefully translates directly to me getting more writing done. And, I'm wondering how much of my change in the board is me, and how much is board?

I've got nothing to say and too much to say with too little time to do so. Was blown away by the latest Flaming Lips CD tonight, mystified by the second discs of Ween at Stubbs, a little PJ and the Slip Jumby and I'm through all five discs in the chamber and feeling great. But, of course, the need for sleep looms, or does it. The need may not be as needy since the drug is now approved and with it, the anxiety and edginess gone. Tomorrow night is presenting a bit of a conundrum as I'm unsure whether I want to hit Jon's bachelor party or DC's party. If there was only a way to do both. Maybe there is as I's like to hit up both things, I'll do Jon's and then try to DC's knwoing right now the liklihood of it is 0.5%. The work I can do in the yard is the prerequsite, and sleep directly relates to that. T is going to be up in a bit and I need to hit the sack. Lots of choices tomorrow.

First moment alone of the weekend and I’m free of any obligations or duties or concrete. Finished the stone wall today, a arduous task that has left me satisfied and sore. Steve and Jen were here for a bit tonight,a quick hang, but always good to see them. Pushed the hour until nine-thirty last night at work, all so I could avoid going in with the rest of the gang on Sunday..and to avoid any fuel any could ignite by my not being there. The weekend already seems to have breezed by and I don’t feel I’ve committed enough to the peeps story. But, I’ll get to it a bit tomorrow after the day’s commitments are done. Mother’s Day, an early brunch at my parents has my body begging for bed. It’ll be fun, Maggie gets to meet a good chunk of my family. I;m especially excited to have my grandfather meet her. He loves dog and probably should have always had one. But, that is another story. As for yard work tomorrow? Well, I’ll confine myself to simply cutting the grass and doing a little work on that same lawn. And so to bed.

Sometimes it’s as simple as someone holding the door for you as was just the case coming back from the Dunkin Donuts downstairs. However, this wasn’t a simple door hold. No, this woman came through the door when I was at least 15 feet away, far past the acceptable realm of door-holding obligation, yet she held it anyway. It probably speaks a lot to her character and it was certainly the first bright spot I’ve had on this dreary Tuesday.

Things seem just a bit off today, even my bagel doesn’t taste quite right. I’m tired and bit lethargic, most likely from the flexeril I took to quell my tensed back last night. They tend to send my brain on a bit of a swirl, fortunately today; they have only draped me in a languid cloak. Unfortunately, I have lots to accomplish today, lucky for me, it is mostly brainless work. Oh yeah, and the weather forecast changed from last evening leaving me dressed for 68 degree weather in a 50 degree reality. At least I managed to get one of those letters that I promised I’d get out below and I still have one more to do. Conference call in 15 minutes and then I must get some writing done before I delve into this afternoon’s bust work.