6-2: I could have had a revolution

Not being down ain't no reason to be up.

Pensive tonight. Or maybe reflective. Hm, not having a great time with the lexicon this evening. At a weird place. I've made my faithful readers well enough aware of my problems, my anxiety about the future, my inability to secure gainful employment, etc, etc.

Time, as Steve Miller once aptly observed, keeps on slippin'; slippin', slippin' into the future.

I went back to M&M's meatshop today. A while back I mentioned I'd turned in a resume and that they wanted someone for fall. Today I dropped by and told them I'd be available in fall, at least on weekends and maybe after school. That's not untrue, but we'll cross that bridge when we get there. That increases my likelihood of getting that job, as I see it, from 2% to about 8%. I don't know, I can just tell when it's a no-go, but I guess you've got to push the issue sometimes. That's something I never did when dealing with women. And yeah, I look at applying for work as being like asking a girl out. I don't do either very often because after a certain point I get tired of rejection; no stomach for it.

I'm a wreck in that sense, because I'm used to things - immaterial shit, nothing of consequence - being easily obtained. I've gotten a weird treatment from the Man over the years because somewhere along the way someone decided I was full of potential. I guess because I'm skinny and white and male and wear glasses and am theoretically full of ideas and can turn a phrase every now and again. So for the early years it was, you know, pretty easy, and then right around the time that started mattering, it was gradually phased out. Luckily by that time I had developed an ability to charm people in the right occasions. This explains why I am not currently selling sunglasses, because my interview was with an automated recording, not a person I would leave any impression on. As I said, you can tell when it's a no-go. I should have applied to sort women's shoes. Then I could collect a paycheck and not have to think about it anymore, nor really fret that my life is escaping me, with unemployment stealing it away with every morning's cup of coffee. My time at Sheridan got me hooked, but my boredom and desire to get out in the morning and sort out a nice little routine left me on the line, addicted to the bean. Fucking coffee, man! This ain't exactly weather for coffee.

I'd get up earlier than 9 AM if it was worthwhile. As it is that's already a stretch. They don't really start playing music - not on Q107 anyway - until 9. I don't want to overuse my iPod's alarm capacity, but I might, just to give it a go and try to get a better foothold in life. Maybe then I could concentrate and get my affairs in order. I'll leave that sentence as I typed it, but I'll re-word it. Maybe then I will be able to concentrate and get my affairs in order.

This weekend was a washout. A 48-hour fuckup. Like much of June, it should be expunged from my life. This is not the finest moment of this blog, but then again, there are very few of those (yet I keep writing in hopes one will occasionally emerge, and it does.) Nearly 800 and precious little accomplished.

I watched a movie called El Topo today. I can't possibly recommend it to a general audience, but I by and large enjoyed it. A surreal experimental western with many disturbing images far beyond the reaches of the imagination yet very well deep seated in reality.

I'm not scared of the future, kind of the opposite. So my immediate future is grim; that will change, that will change. I see myself as floating on my back in a deep stream and though I may drown - we all float and we all may drown - it is only a matter of staying afloat and drifting along, flapping one's arms. And there are those content to float, and those who learn to swim.

Do you hear me? Naturally.

Just because you have no reason to be up, that's no reason to be down.

Keep on rockin'
De Scott