This week, I learned I’m stronger than I thought (and my shoulder isn’t as excited about the discovery as I am) absence makes the heart feel like utter crap and working way too many hours makes one go a little crazy.
Saturday: I was ‘off’ yesterday (Friday) and did a bunch of errands anyway. I also wind up working from home for awhile, picking up a bottle of Honey Jack for my brother and I and we basically lounge around puffing cigars, watching street fireworks because fuck yeh America. We eat homemade chicken nuggets and french fries like super adults. AMAZE.
Sunday: Slightly sweaty from whiskey but nevertheless, undaunted, I get to work on time, knock out a few bangers and even manage to make a project that’s landed in my lap work. Sorta. Mostly, it’s just the early dregs of summer, I’m still pale and starting to burn out but this is the life I chose and based on my previous entries (see crippling depression, woeful unemployment, relationship problems) it’s better than the latter.
Monday: At work early where I learn that I’m fairly good at paperwork, forensic accounting and plotting multiple projects at once. So my spirit animal, the octopus, is quite excited for life. I also learn that Uber is basically a religion I just don’t understand. I’m sorry ya’ll. The whole concept gives me the creeps. Taxis in general give me the creeps. I’m a born and raised New Yorker and they HONESTLY just creep me out. Climbing into a car with a total stranger who you don’t speak to but you know they want to talk to you (and they do, GOD they do) is just a weird experience. Factor in the whole ‘press button, magic car appears because you’re both lurking around one another’ process that is Uber…NAH kid. CHILL. Anyway, I have a business account and will always make sure I or the driver have an aux cable.
Tuesday: My continued deep dive into the world of my place of work is epic. I also learn that I can’t trust every pesto; I wind up feeling like a bus hit me after eating cold chicken pesto. It’s not the cafeteria’s fault, it’s mine, for thinking that I have an iron stomach and that shoveling food into my face hole at an alarming rate is the right way to eat. Soon, I’ll learn to not eat like a prison inmate.
Wednesday: I spend part of the day in the Brooklyn Museum’s amazing The Rise of Sneaker Culture (and dabble in their other exhibit FAILE: Savage/Sacred Young Minds which is amazing in its own right) working on a short piece. I’ll share it when it’s ready. The sneakers made me super nostalgic because many of them (Air Max, Adidas, Puma) were sneakers I couldn’t really afford as a kid and seeing them as I saw them as a kid, behind glass, on a pedestal, well lit and revered, it made me feel the same way as I did then; I’ll eventually afford them, just not today. I think that’s the root for many sneaker collectors and fans; the fact that at one time, we couldn’t have it for whatever reason (financial, the violence that ensued against people who in demand sneakers etc) and now that we have the income, we’re scooping up any pair we find. The curators are admittedly not sneakerheads but they appreciate the culture that’s grown around the scene. I also learned some fun historical facts about the sneaker at the beginning of the 20th century. Go check it out, it’s awesome.
Thursday: Side gig is basically an adventure in madness. If they say women are mercurial as fuck…dudes are worse. WAY. WORSE. I cancel something I wanted to do because I NEEDED to make sure everything was in place for tomorrow so I didn’t lose my damn mind. Turns out, it was the right move. Sometimes you just gotta trust the gut.
Friday: Shoot day. It’s fascinating because you really don’t think about what goes into making things when you’re watching them until you’re actually making them yourself. Every little detail is nuanced and focused and counts and…it’s all for a blink of an eye really. It’s interesting too because you really don’t appreciate the strange hive mind until you’re locked in a room with people who really think they know it al. In between all this, I make plans and hope that my timeline works out in my favor.
Turns out, it does.
I’ve booked a date with Phillip Wolves and after almost a week’s worth of hey girl hey (which started out on Instagram, no I wasn’t sliding into the DMs, I called out a tattoo I liked from his stencil stash) we plan to meet on Friday. I wind up at the New York Tattoo Expo which is a three day tattoo palooza and with my struggle to master the art of self control, I book a ticket and an appointment with him and the running joke is my excellent communication skills, timeliness and affable attitude…pretty much everything that makes me incredibly awkward.
I get a large stippled peony and talk the bull with him where I basically admit to the big ol teddy bear that my heart is still a little sick over Waffle. We were texting back and forth and I really wanted her to come with me but as you can tell, my personal scheduling skills pale in comparison to my work scheduling skills. We were supposed to go get more work done and with my reckless persona, I just…well…I just went for it. Honestly it’s the strangest feeling because I know I should suck it up and deal with it but I also feel incredibly lonely and still wish I had someone in my corner, someone like Waffle because I’m still in that corner even though there isn’t any room for me there.
After about two hours I’m finished, a little exhausted but hopeful because the piece that I have carries with it the essence of hope and optimism, something I haven’t had for quite some time. I may also be super super super tired and the endorphins are running incredibly high after spending time in a chair with some cool people.
Saturday: I have a byline.