1:00 AM: Frame of reference, web of influences, sphere of knowledge

I have been having what I might describe as "a week."

As you'll recall, in my last entry, I was looking forward to having several days in a row off from work, after three consecutive days at HMV. It isn't that I hate my job or anything, but I'm not so desperate for cash that I need to spend all my free time working. It's exhausting and not good for my spirit. Plus, I can't stand the Glee cover of Can't Fight This Feeling that is airing on HMV Radio. There are other songs I hate, but the fact that that CD is loaded with songs I'd rather hear is really irksome. Also, when Alan Cross introduces it, he says "This is Gleecast" like a compound word, so I didn't even register it was from Glee.

Rant, rant, rant.

Soyeah. While I was looking forward to this reprieve, I knew it wouldn't last as long as it should've on paper. It managed to last even short than I thought. I got a call on Tuesday while I was waiting for the bus, Karen calling to see if I could work at all that day. She pitched me a 1:00-9:30 shift, and I reminded her that I had school, so she asked me just to come in after school, and I reluctantly agreed because I still don't wanna be the guy turning down shifts, until they pick up a few more temps.

So the rest of the school day was spent angsting over it a bit. I was actually a little offended she didn't even check my availability (technically I'm not available until 5:30, an arbitrary number whose sole purpose is pretty much to discourage being booked Mondays and Tuesdays.) When I got there and saw the store in disarray over the redesign of the shelves, I realized what it was about and my anger turned to understanding.

It was actually a pretty easy day. I hardly even had to help customers because it was a weekday afternoon so there weren't many, and we were so busy doing price changes and shit. A few people commented on the dismal state of affairs.

It was also pretty fun because I was working with people I liked working with. I've lamented the fact that people I really liked last year (Mandy, Fieldhouse, and of course Coop and Aryn) are gone, although that's not fair to the people who remain. I don't see Trevor often, and I think he gets along with everyone, ditto Taylor. Taylor's a good sport, and I rag on him a fair bit, but he takes it well with good humour. We were actually a bit cruel to him in grade school, but I hardly think that's still the case. In fact, I think certain other employees see me busting his chops and assume it's just co-worker talk and maybe taking it a bit far. I'm not saying we're best buds, but I've known him for well over a decade now, although we didn't go to high school together. There's a good dynamic, is what I'm saying.

Manda stopped in on her way out for the day. She briefly complained about how hard her day had been. She said she'd catch my on MSN later that night to give me the low-down. Later that night, on my break, I ran into Emily, a girl I went to high school with. The connection was immediately drawn in my head, and sure enough Manda had plenty to say on the subject.

So the night went easy, and the next couple of days at school, too. I'm really starting to pick my shit up after the dismal midterm season. I was really thrown due to the volume of half-credit courses, but that's only an excuse and I mean to say that it's my own fault for being ill-prepared. Suffice it to say this won't be my finest semester ever. But I'm trying to rebound. Then again... after work on Tuesday I went home and wrote my 1000-word paper on our presentation of Trifles. It was a bit disorganized and I am increasingly dissatisfied with it in retrospect. Part of the reason I was bitter about working is that it was time I could've been writing that paper, although realistically it would've gotten doen in more or less the same time. So reall,y I'm still blaming myself if it's bad. I'm aiming for 66 (yeah, dream big.) Could be more, hopefully not less.

Yesterday after I got home was writing time. I have/had been neglecting my ltest script. I did write a play in August/September that had a workable premise but was way out all over the map, far beyond being comprehensible, it was not representative of my abilities. I was just so caught up in the act of writing it that I forgot that other people are eventually going to need to see it. I responded to myself (and Cary) with a streamlined plot outline that focused the story in a way it had not been. I still did not get around to writing it (in the grips of those deadly midterms) but by late October I had a revelation of sorts, which I hadn't realized I was waiting for. I was clinging to this subplot, these characters, and I knew there was a problem with them but I couldn't see myself erasing them. Once I solved that problem (rolling them into one, as I had two other unruly overlapping characters) the play started to really make sense in my head, and I knew I could begin writing.

And then I didn't.

And then I did, but I didn't like it. I was falling back into my indulgent traps. So instead of doing what I would previously have and kept going and hoping to fix it later, I hit reset yet again, salvaged what I liked (most of which was from the first draft anyway, at only 5 pages in there wasn't too much divergence) and re-wrote it yesterday. I like what I've got enough to keep going, although who knows when... it's late now, so hopefully I'll have energy to pick it up tomorrow after work. Sigh.

When I was in first year, taking that ferkakte Philosophy class, there were these two guys. I saw them in every lecture, twice a week, at 9 AM. One was a nondescript rocker with a shaved head. The other a Dave Grohl-looking fella with shoulder-length or longer brown hair, leather jacket, prominent eyebrows, chin beard. They were quite the pair. They're the type of guys who seemed like they were up to no good despite you having to idea in what way. In fact, it seems like they were the exact type who would skip, but I remember seeing them down in the lower level from my balcony seat, all the freaking time. Then after a while I started seeing them on the subway all the freaking time. And you rarely see the same person on the TTC over and over again so I concluded they were on the same train as I was every morning.

I've seen them a few times since then, never having confirmed this... until tonight. On my way home, at 9:43 of all times, I got on the same GO train car as them. They got off at Clarkson, thus settling the question of their origins once and for all. It kinda shows that you can never tell a book from its cover, although not really because I never spoke to them and I have no idea if they were good at Philosophy (or at any rate better than I was) but they were there every week. So you can only sorta tell a book by its cover, is what I'm saying.

So in all the craziness of Tuesday, I was bestowed with another shift for Friday (just like I thought!) and I'm working Saturday and I assume I'll be working Sunday as well. And in the meantime, as always, there is that play to write and comics to draw and books to read and reviews to do....... hm. Sometimes you just gotta bite off more than you can chew, and hope it strengthens your jaw. You know?

Bad metaphor. I know nothing about orthodontics. Don't listen to me. I'm wonky.

Keep on rockin'
-Scotto