There are a lot of creative people on this site who have day jobs. Serious day jobs. Things you might call careers. But how many of you would rather say you're a writer rather than a $highly_technical_thing_doer? In the past couple of weeks I have started thinking about myself the way I did in college and it's working. By working I mean that my attitude is improving and my job isn't really killing my soul, etc. I seriously think of myself as a janitor. Some things about being a janitor that you should know. First, it's not easy. It's evil work that no one wants to do. There's a lot of labor in it and the work itself is dirty. Not metaphorically or spiritually, but physically. Second, you see the worst of people. Women are disgusting beasts. How do I know this? I cleaned their bathrooms for a couple of years. The stuff they will stick in trash cans or leave on the floor is mind boggling. And before you jump, with men it's piss. But it's only piss. Third, you see the world from the position of a non-person. People treated me like I wasn't there when I was working. It was fascinating. The things people will say in front of a janitor if only to prove that he isn't there are incredible.
All the time that I was pushing a broom and swabbing toilets, I didn't think of myself as a janitor. I was a composer. A musician. My fingernails were kept perfect. I memorized scores on my breaks. I would show up to work from rehearsals or practicing and leave work to get back in the practice room. I didn't label myself. That's been the most difficult thing for me with what I do for money. It's what a lot of people I know respect as a career. See that? Janitor is a job. $my_job is a career. Funny stuff, that. The two aren't all that far apart. And the way that I treat them would indicate to me that there's no difference between the two.
So I go about my routine. I don't empty trashcans, but I do clean up. I push the early twenty-first century equivalent of a broom and think of myself as a composer and a musician. Something inside of me has changed and it shows. A co-worker mentioned yesterday that I've been much more relaxed. Seems to me that's a good thing. A very good thing.
Am I alone here? I don't think so. It's probably more complex than the way I've put it down here, but I think you get the gist.
This weekend I re-read The Triggering Town by Richard Hugo because a douchebag blogger on the internet mentioned it and I remembered how good I thought it was when I discovered it back in college. Know what? Still good. If you do stuff and/or things you should probably read it. Oh, and fuckwit chain bookstores keep it in the poetry section instead of with literary criticism or the "Please, Please Buy This Book And I Swear You'll Be A Great Writer" stuff.
We put up the tree this weekend. Now we need to keep it standing. This is a challenge. The boy is really a piece of work sometimes.
It snowed in Houston last Friday. I had the day off so I didn't have to worry about driving around with these people who never change their tires. Of course they let my office go at noon due to inclement weather on my day off but I'm not bitter. Fucking morons. That said, we got cute pics of The Dude in the snow with Teh Puppay. They were both quite pleased. It was a good day to be at home, but then again most days are.
I like candles. And tacos. But not taco candles.
I have a solid 8 hours of meetings today. Nice.
My dad kept the boy last Saturday night so Stacky and I had a real date! Dinner and the bookstore. We're predictable, but happy. Turns out "our" bookstore is going to be selling the nook. No shocker that they are one of the top 100 stores. Got to see a plastic version like you'd find on a display at IKEA. It's exactly as I'd imagined and I'm pretty pleased with my upcoming experiment. Anywho, it was nice to be out and about with the wife. We had our usual good time and got a good night's sleep. Go Team Sleep!
Anybody here on GoodReads who isn't already linked to me over there? Just checkin'.
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