nothing in particular

Work has me busier than a hyperactive child with Tourette's Syndrome on Ritalin.

I am learning the nuances of the Accounts Receivable department. This is new territory for me, because I have an aversion to numbers.

In a nutshell, I hate them.

In school, I was always in the "brown book" group when it came to Math. I was behind my classmates in that field but ahead of them when it came to Spelling, Grammar, and Reading Comprehension. Thus, in my life I have done everything I can to avoid jobs where I have to calculate numerical amounts.

Strangely enough, I've discovered that my math skills, on the whole, are not that bad. In relation to super-whiz-kids Magnet students, I was lackluster; in the real world, I am par for the course, and that is oddly reassuring to me.

I never went past Algebra 2 in high school (in fact, I had to repeat Algebra 2 during the Winter Session that year in order to graduate on stage with my peers) so my background is limited. I never got into the mind-blowing math studies, the ones like Calculus and Trigonometry where you had to forget everything you ever learned about mathematics and embrace a whole new set of rules and maxims.

Of course, nowadays there's computer programs that do all the math for you-- all one has to do is enter the correct numbers swiftly. And since I am a good typist, I think my job security has just tightened a notch.

Who would have ever thought that I'd be doing this?


*/*


I have stopped pursuing muses.

Lately I haven't been trying to meet anyone who can inspire me. Still, it's a bad habit, one that's hard to break: Just last week I wrote a song for a girl, hoping that my effort would pay off in gratitude or affection. So far, she hasn't responded.

It's just as well, because it's a very selfish thing for me to go on about my many muses. I have rendered them as caricatures, stereotypes, objects. They are women and they are human and they are flawed, but my search for the perfect muse causes me to look upon them with some sort of unrealistic respect and admiration.

In reality, I am just projecting my wishes upon them, and when they don't abide by my rules and standards I get upset.

I think I am sincere in my intentions, but that makes no difference. Even though I want to place them on a pedestal, deep down I am starting to see that not only do some of these women not deserve such treatment, but also they don't appreciate me doing that to them.

It isn't flattering-- it's insulting.

So I haven't had any muses for a spell, save for that one girl who inspired a song from me. I can put that song alongside the several others I composed in the past, for girlfriends, lovers, fuck-buddies, platonic friends and complete strangers.

I have an album's worth of songs about these women. I guess that's one good thing about it. But the question now is: Are they any good?


*/*


Getting DSL at home has helped me vastly.

I thought I would just fuck around on it, and at first I did. But now I find myself using it for the practical reasons it possesses. I can blog at home now; I can upload items to websites and receive files via e-mail that I normally had to wait until the next morning to get; I don't have to go to the library anymore to use a computer just to check my various projects...

This is the first time I have ever blogged from home. I am disappointed to admit that I haven't much to say right now, but at least this is a milestone of sorts.

I really haven't had much to say lately, in general. Life is flying by too fast for me to stop and document it. I have a lot to write about, but it needs to gestate in my head before can give birth to it.

I will be 33 years old in less than four months. I think it will be a good birthday. That's about as far into the future I can go right now.

OK, time to go. I have to go take care of a few things.

PEACE