Underthecurrent


October 4, 2016, 12:50 am
Filed under: work work work work work

A weekend of antibiotics and fever sleep ticks by.  The physical expulsion of all the mental twisting of the last week is bacteria all around.  Invading, wasting.

From bed, order: a candle that smells like patchouli, bran muffin mix and rainboots.

Reflecting on the past few years.  Years one and two: relative success.  Year three: burnout, avoidance as survival. Year four: avoidance as main objective, focus on other projects.

Four years ago, sitting in a small apartment on the ground floor.  A sweet little funny angled space, secured against the odds.  Sending out cover letters, cleaning up for interviews, lying.  Lying about having any intention of sticking with this, about long term goals and ambition.

Eventually the lies sound so good, sufficiently well polished, they seem possibly true.

What was the point?  Money.  Temporarily, money, which is a whole other thing to write about.  By the metrics of four years ago, there is now money.  Enough money to eke out middle class security, to have a few more dreams, to start something.  Staying too much longer undermines this, doesn’t it?  If all the dreams are foregone in pursuit of more.

Today is day 55.

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