Wild away the hours
Like a starving thing
A beast abreast of your pulse
Wild away the hours
Like a starving thing
A beast abreast of your pulse
Giving ghost tours is definitely a weird fucking job. I don’t always know how I feel about it. It’s hard and draining and weird but also pretty cool. And when it goes well it’s really good. Tonight was the biggest group I’ve had in a couple months I think. 14 people all in. And I was excellent. It’s so weird, like, no matter how much I’m not fucking feeling like doing it, no matter what my mood is, no matter how tired or out of it or sad or annoyed or whatever, the second I step out there and start doing it I’m just… On. It’s just going and happening and I’m doing it. Making jokes and building the energy up up up, and just being this tour persona. I was talking to another one of the guides about it a couple weeks ago, he was trying to describe his experience of this same phenomenon to me. “Well… You probably know what I mean.” He says, “I mean, of all the people in the world, if anyone would know, it would probably be you.” And we laugh about it, and it’s a strange sort of comradery. And I just realized, really, that it’s the only job I’ve ever had where I’m not instantly replaceable. Where they couldn’t just get rid of me and have someone new doing my job the next day. It’s months of training and work for a new person, and maybe they could do it, but maybe not. Weird. Okay. It’s almost 3 am so I’m guna let myself sleep for a tiny minute. Peace.
“Share your story here” okay WordPress. Once upon a time it was 2:30 in the morning, I had just finished writing the 5 articles I promised to deliver. And I really should have been asleep, but I couldn’t fucking sleep, because my brain was awash in thought and ideas and images and full formed games and half formed plans. I start to blame myself. I wasn’t engaging enough. I didn’t inspire enough feeling. And maybe that’s true, and definitely I could always improve, but it’s not fucking useful to berate myself. It’s new still and I’m new at it, still. But I’m good. I have a true spark and flame and flare for it. I found it and it’s mine and I’m finding more of it still. I want to be strong. I want muscles and muscles and it feels good to want that. I have everything I need to forge ahead. I have thoughts on thoughts on thoughts. And they all lived happily ever after, the end.
Here I am again, another night of writing shit for money. I am very very tired, but I still have … like… 8 fucking articles that I have to write before I can sleep, because I procrastinated a shit ton and didn’t do anything yesterday… or today during the day. So now here I am. Hold up. Okay, three done, five to go. It’s almost midnight. Lol. this sucks. In an ideal world, I would be done with this in 2 hours, by 1:45, so I can snag like two hours of sleep before waking up to be a Good Significant Other(tm). Buuuuut I dunno if that’s really possible or not. These are like… bottom of the barrel articles. Weird, obscure topics that are harder for me to write about. Still, I’ll do what I can. Okay. here we go. Lmao I’m writing about fucking toilet parts and stroller boards (which are apparently a thing you can attach to a stroller for like a toddler to stand on or whatever. I literally had no idea it was a thing until about 3 minutes ago) Mkay, those are done. 3 to go. It’s 12:30. We’ll see what happens I guess. Okay, 2 to go, but now it’s 1:15. I’m Very Tired. lol. lol. lol. C’mon, I can do it. I’ve written 6 of these fucking things since I got home from my tour. Okay. Last round. let’s finish it. Wrenches and water filters. Okay. done. done. okay. I had more stuff I wanted to write, but I’m fucking exhausted and it’s 2:15, so peace.
I twist my guts up over what ifs and could be-s and “god, I fucking hope not”-s. Make myself sick with thoughts that sicken me. Okay. Whatever. I try to shut it up and move on. Focus on the good and try to crush the worm of it. It turns out I want to be a handler. Makes sense in ways, but I still found myself a bit surprised, when it came upon me. I plan to plan a scene that focuses heavily in that direction. For soon. For Saturday even, possibly. I dunno. there really are so many things I want to do. How do I make them all fit? I need to be working. I have quite a bit of shit that I have to finish by tomorrow night, and I’m planning on heading in to see my parents for a bit tomorrow, so like…. that’s another thing I have to compensate for, time wise. I need more activity, more exercise. I did a little today but it’s not enough. it’s not enough. Okay, time to write some shit. I feel weird and trapped and gross. Maybe because I’ve hardly been out of the house in a few days, and I haven’t talked to like… hardly anyone. Maybe I’ll feel better after getting out tomorrow and seeing people. I dunno. ugh. I just feel weird and sort of bad in general I guess. I finished one of the *paid in a month* freelance articles I said I would do, only one more of those to go, due early tomorrow, and six more product description ones, due Saturday morning. Gross. I need to finish that one, and then two of the others, and then I can do four tomorrow and it should be fine. Okay, the one is done. It might not pass the editor stage because I really don’t know what the fuck I’m doing, but I’ll fix ’em if I have to.Two more to go, and I already started them a little. I’m hoping to be done by 2:45, so I can get a tiny bit of sleep. Ugh. I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing … like… in life. Okay. I finished writing those things. I’m going to go the fuck to sleep now. It’s 5 minutes ’till 2:45. oh boy. Okay, yeah. I’m out. Peace.
Blood pounding in my ears
This is the 30th time this has happened
Since I’ve been alive
It’s so wow and I’m so lucky
And this year I will be more worthy
Of love and trust and confidence
Of the gift of my body
Of those who believe in me
Of my tenuous place on the planet
Of all of it
It’s weird that the holidays are already over. I wasn’t ready for them and then they happened and it’s just… weird. I feel weird. Restless and slightly anxious about conflicting schedules and tight timelines. Also, I should go into Rio and see my parents and help them set up their Echo Dot(tm) (I was super skeptical about being gifted one, but now Alexa is my robot butler friend and I don’t even care if she’s spying on me because there really isn’t anything interesting for her to hear, except maybe some weird sex noises… but like… have fun with that folks at amazon.) I’m trying to knock out some freelance work. It would actually be ideal if I could finish all of my required articles tonight, and then not have to do anything tomorrow, so that I can like… hang out, and possibly go to see Star Wars maybe possibly. I should ask if anyone wants to take my New Years Eve tour for me, because I hellllaaaa don’t want to do that. We’ll see tho. I really don’t want to fucking do one on Saturday either, but I will probably have to. That’s part of my anxiety, since that’s like… the only **full** night we’ll have to do stuff for a few days But… it’ll be okay. I’ll make it work. I’ll just have to get us started from afar with an away mission. Anyway, yeah. I can seriously hear the S.O snoring upstairs right now, which is cool. I’m glad they are sleeping well. In fairly awesome news, we got gifted a brand new mattress from my brother’s girlfriend’s mom. She’s a real-estate agent and it was in one of the houses she was selling and no one else wanted it so we got it. Still in the plastic and everything. We haven’t set it up yet, but I’m pretty excited to do so, because it seems pretty awesome. Also, our mattress is a sunken garbage pile, so like…. I’m excited. It’s prrrobably the best mattress I’ve ever had in my possession. Some name fucking brand shit. It pays to know people. **hoooooooly fucking shit** I just looked up the model number and everything, this is like a fucking $1,300 mattress. Jesus fucking christ that’s totally insane. Like… is this for fucking real??! I’m honestly speechless. I can’t believe we’re just being gifted this. Holy fucking shit. Like… for the last couple months I have been seriously considering buying a new mattress, but the most I could really afford would be about $200… and it would probably be terrible and not last long, like what we currently have. This is some game changing shit yo. Like… I kinda wanna make sure they actually want to just give it to me??? but like??? they’ve had it for a few days and no one else wanted it???? They had a few days to change their minds about it. And really, the lady who gave it to us makes like 300k a year being a real-estate baller, so this is like… nothing to her. Soooooo uuuuhhhh, it’s in my house now, and I’m just gonna accept it, and be grateful, and holy shit. I am SHOOK. I’m fucking psyched to get it all set up tomorrow. Okay. wow. wow. okay. wow. wow. okay. wow. I’m definitely going to finish my work tonight, and then hopefully I can plan some sort of celebratory type of deal tomorrow. (or like… a date, but a date that has to end by 11:45 because that’s when my S.O turns back into a pumpkin.) Okay, two articles done, only two more to go. However: it is now 1:30 in the morning, and if I have any hope of getting even close to enough sleep, I need to go to bed like… now. Soooo I dunno. Should I stay up and finish my work? Or sleep and cram it in somewhere tomorrow? Let’s look at the offerings and decide. Okay, picked two, finished one, started the other. Should I sleep now? probably. Okay, yeah. I’m going to. Whoops, I stayed awake and finished the last one. Tight. Tight. It’s done now, and I’m going to try and go the fuck to bed. Peace.