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Wednesday April 04, 2001, 04:14

Lessons of the day: Brooklyn is not as far as I would like to believe, there are some really attractive people in Williamsburg and the last non-local train back to my parents' house is at 11:57pm.

There are many things that I would like to say here that begin with the phrase "Sometimes I..." because I tend to think too much and do too little when I am in what I affectionately call "transitional periods" of my life. What this primarily means is that I have plenty of time to think because I do not particularly want to notice where I am at the time and hope that things will get better in the future. That is to say, "soon."

Allow me to get all deep and introspective for a while. It is dark outside. Very dark. In fact, for some reason, I think that the street lamps are out on at least part of that road, which is strange as it is a major road, but not so strange because it's four in the morning in a sleepy suburban town and there is nobody out this late. It just doesn't happen. That was not really so deep. The deep part comes from me thinking about the fact that I will be, in a month or thereabouts, moving again, back into the city (and for those of us who have note quite gotten it yet, I have moved out of the city and back to my what I affectionately describe as "the house where I grew up" until such time that I can move back to the city). And even that is not so deep until I start to think about the fact that I had actually fallen into a routine in these past three months. A routine. Imagine that. I, who have shunned all things stable in recent times, had a life where I would wake up in the morning to the sound of my computer calling my cell phone, check my email, and then head to a cafe for the day, probably to write, or to read. Or not.

There is that element of "or not" that is thrown in there for good measure, but honestly, that was always part of the routine as well. The point is that the options were the routine. The options are all foreign to me now. There is nowhere to go but to drive. There is nothing to do but clean my room. Three months ago I was able to start my life over again with pretty much a clean break, and now I've been thrown back into it.

My parents nag me as well, as parents are wont to do.

I am all of a sudden falling into a trap where I realize that I have said nothing and am ready to stop saying nothing, but not quite ready to start saying something. Words coming out all involve "I" which is not too interesting unless I was in the habit of writing endlessly about my day. Which I am not. At least not these days. "I had a meeting. I saw a show. I ran to catch the train. I read some magazines. I met some cute girls who didn't seem to care that I existed." Uninteresting.

Too bad for you.

Getting back to the phrase "Sometimes I..." (which the astute readers will note contains the phrase/word/letter/pronoun "I" - the existence of which in my writing has caused me unending grief, as explained above) which allows me to complain without actually requiring me to do anything about my current station in life. Allow me to demonstrate.

Sometimes I feel like I want to build some whiz-bang web site with neato graphics. And then I remember that I am a programmer. Not a programmer/web designer, but just a programmer. And what this means is that my ability to produce whiz-bang graphics is nonexistent.

Sometimes I feel like I want to quit the web all together because I keep writing drek and haven't had any good programming ideas in a while and I have a lot of fun doing theatre so why not just do that all the time? And then I remember that really, I'm just complaining because I'm cold and haven't had my own apartment in over four months and I'm just grumpy.

Sometimes I feel like I just want to make a lot of money doing computer stuff because everyone else seems to be able to and yet I'm working for free for causes that I believe in. But then I remember that the economy is failing and people aren't paying a lot of money for web people any more (as was witnessed by the meeting that I had today trying to pitch a web site to a theatre company. A web site to a theatre company? Am I a moron? What theatre company has money to pay for a web site?) and that really I missed the boat when it comes to winning the "software lottery."

Sometimes I think that I shouldn't feel bad for not having a full-time job and just working when I want and making moderate amounts of money and not putting more away for the future as I already have a lot saved up. But I can't, because money is all people talk about. People do not talk about happiness nearly enough (and when they do, it is normally associated with money) and I can't help but get caught up in that.

Sometimes I wish I had something interesting to say.

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