the light at the end of the tunnel?
Oh snap! No, that was just a migraine. I saw my dad in the hospital yesterday after his hip surgery. Morphine all of a sudden doesn't seem as awesome as I was convinced it would be. Poor Daddy. Mind you, he's still pretty darned hilarious. I'm not sure if the stress of seeing him in that kind of pain, sleep deprivation, work pressure and hormones did the rest. Probably. (There is a slight possibility that three beers and a gin and tonic the night before may have played a role in that as well, but I doubt it.)
Well, one way or another, I've got to keep my head up. I've got my very own seasonal cycle of living and working intensely followed by a crash that takes a couple of months to climb out of before I do it all again. The crash sucks, but it must be working for me, otherwise I wouldn't keep doing it. I'll never forget the monotony and misery and sameness of PS-Hell.
P.S. There is the smallest chance that my work situation will improve. More to come on that later. Like, when I know precisely how it will improve. It may mean not working 60-70 hours a week on three to four different gigs.
P.P.S. No matter how entertaining you may have found Bloodsport (featuring Jean Claude Van Damme) back in the day, I'm here to tell you: you can never go back. Watching Forrest Whittaker, I felt (in equal measure) deep pity and an overwhelming urge to set things on fire.
I'm telling you...don't do it. Not even a little.
2 comments:
/feels guilty for supplying the beer
/hides copy of Bloodsport before T's next visit
I confess, I bought the bloody DVD last week in a fit of nostalgia. It's simply awful.
I'll probably watch it again in a week.
Post a Comment