Am I blogging...or am I pitching my existence?
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| High Concept Am I blogging...or am I pitching my existence? |
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Tuesday, March 15, 2005 The Pitch: It's like Requiem For A Dream meets The Towering Inferno! Yesterday was so insane and crazy I forgot about the drug deal.Sunday, Edi and I were talking about the charms of walking along Mission Street--we'd made our way over to The Castro Theatre and decided to take Mission instead of Valencia. And I was regaling her with all the great stuff I get to see on my morning walk. "Here's where the guys sleep, and there's where they pee. Oh no, wait. That's a bakery. It's open. I think they sleep in the next storefront. Ooo, and here's some of my favorite graffitti!" So yesterday on my morning walk to BART, a scary strung-out woman stumbled up to a short latino guy in an army jacket and slipped him a small baggie of white stuff. At least, that's what it looked like out of the corner of my eye. Thinking about it now, it was probably heroin and the strung-out woman was probably muling between the street dealer and the central stash. For some reason, that makes it all the more depressing. Anyway, after that, I missed my stop and rode BART to Oakland. That was actually the non-Edi-related highlight of my day, actually. I was so engrossed in Kafka On The Shore, and there had been a few between-station delays, I was completely thrown off as to what our last stop was...but there's no mistaking the long, long ride under the bay, particularly when it's normally around ninety seconds to get from one station to another. So I read some more, and put down the book just in time to have the train come out of the tunnel into the oncoming morning light. It was great. I got off at the first stop and waited outside for the next train to take me back. Of course, after that it was all gloom and misery and pain--constant dogpiles of awful, unending jobs, bad instructions, and the assurance that each and every job is a very important rush that needs to be done absolutely as soon as possible. I worked from 8:00 to 1:00 without a break, took lunch, and came back to almost exactly the same piles of shitty work as when I left. By about 5:30, I felt like my brain was crawling with bees, and I wanted to weep. I was actually afraid to return home because I felt so brittle. As it turned out, home was exactly the right place to be--one great dinner and two episodes of The Office later, I felt 95% bee-free. I'm still impressed with myself for showing up for work today. I would have much rather called in sick, picked up the blackline from the store, and made the free showing of The Ring Two tonight. (I also have a free showing pass for Sin City tomorrow and am trying to figure out if I really want to stand in line to see it. On the one hand, hey! Two weeks early! On the other hand, hey! Two hours in line and a jammed-up theater.) Yes, that's how bad work is. I'm actually fantasizing about doing other work as a relief from thinking about it. I'm hoping today will be quiet so I can share my thoughts on Kafka on the Shore, which I just finished. Actually, I'm just hoping today will be quiet enough I can figure out what my thoughts are regarding Kafka on the Shore. Let's just go with "Wow, what a book" for now, and see what churns up later. posted by Jeff Lester | 8:21 AM | |
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