Feeling good!

Woke up at a reasonable hour, wrote my morning pages, had breakfast, and went to the gym. Now it’s noon and I’m just getting ready to start my workday, so it’s not a perfect day, but not bad.


I went to a visions meditation and ceremony today. It was really calming and more than a little revealing.

Investigating my vision for myself is about uncovering more aspects of the vision I’ve always had for myself rather than inventing something new. Sometimes aspects take on new meanings, but the process is remembering and allowing myself to realize that these things are possible, or at least that I deserve to have this perfect thing, even if it’s only in my imagination.

Be vewwy vewwwy quiet....

… I’m hunting jobs.

Which are of course, more elusive than wascawwy wabbits.

I figure if I can’t bring myself to do the kind of work I have on my plate, that I’d better take some action to get some other kind of work. This brings up a lot of fear of rejection and all that of course. What if I find a company I’d really like to work for and THEY don’t like ME? A load of horsepucky of course, but those feelings keep coming up.

Fill her up

There’s this Sting song on Brand new Day called Fill her up which sounds kind of annoying because Sting does this imitation of an American accent, but it tells a story which really resonates with me.

It’s about a guy who works at a gas station in the middle of nowhere and some city slicker shows up in a fancy sportscar taking his hot babe fiancee to Vegas to get married («yeah, that’s a real diamond»). The teller of the story resents his boss and starts dreaming of stealing the cashbox and running off to take his sweetie somewhere. As the city slicker drives away,

OK, but seriously

Something about Macarthur Park sums up how I’ve been feeling lately. Who was the asshole that left the cake out in the rain? Dammit.

I had a dream last night that I went on a road trip with Hammerhead, and that we went «camping» in strangers’ homes. We pulled in to their driveways and snuck in to the homes of suburbanites and slept in their guest bedrooms. Sometimes our unwitting hosts would pass by the doors on their way to the bathroom, and there was always a rush to get going in the morning before we were discovered.


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