Apparently, I’m the author of this blog. I suppose that means I’m supposed to, you know, write about stuff. Sorry about that. (Nevermind: I’m not sorry)
My distractions of late have included a temp job that doesn’t smile kindly upon use of the internet, phones, or iPods, so my internet usage has been restricted to an email check in the evening, and then a 2-minute attempt to come up with gems of Twitter genius, only to have my wife say something that insinuates I’m addicted to crafting 140-character nuggets.
Well, I’m between temp contracts this week, so it affords me the time to remember all the things I’ve forgotten about. In some cases, this means I make homemade ketchup and baba ganoush. In others, it means I haven’t written much in over a month.(More stuff from State of Formation and Good Men to come soon, though).
When you’re looking for a job, it’s easy to become mr. sad-pants. That brief period of elation you get when you first re-read your current resume (I can do that? Wow! I’d hire me!) is quickly followed up with some maudlin self-deprecation (I did that? Wow! I wish I could remember how!). But, the real issue, for me anyway, has to do with creation. If I’m not making something–even if it’s hack-teaching myself to play the ukulele–I start to get a bizarre combination of anxiety and lethargy. Everything needs to happen now, but I don’t feel up to the task. I smell a vicious cycle! It smells like prawns!
In fact, any time I’ve ever had a full-time job, that same mix of creative stagnancy remains–I’m just too busy to remember why. I thought that as soon as a paycheck started coming in, I’d feel validated, alive again. But, after your 6th cup of commercial grade coffee in a clearly chemical-leaching to-go mug, you wonder why you still feel like sleeping until the next paid holiday (oh, right. I’m a temp–we don’t get paid to celebrate).
Before your lower lip starts to descend on my behalf, hold it right there! (well, don’t hold your lip for too long. It’ll get dry and crackly). The thing is: I’ve been asking for this lifestyle for years.
I need tension to wrench me out of my routines, to remind me that the war that happens inside humans is: to move, or to stop. The voice that tells us to move needs to stay louder. For some, it’s easy to hear their passion’s voice even amidst a 9-5. For many, it’s not. For me, it’s definitely not. So, even if it means writing a blog post for no apparent reason, with no apparent point, I’ll keep on, because this is how my passion packs a bag and heads to the gym, even on rainy cold days when it really doesn’t want to hear the words “squat thrust” one more time. (note: that was all a metaphor. I’ve never been to a gym, nor do I care to know what a squat thrust is).
Oh yeah! Now I remember the other reason why I’ve been so busy!
MY FIRST CHILD IS DUE TO BE BORN ANY TIME NOW.
So, there’s that.