Day #2

Tuesday
Today is the second day of unemployment  and the fourth day of well.. me.

I'm sitting in my apartment after just having sushi with my best friends and it strikes me that every year we get a bit closer to what we hope seals the deal. I haven't put as much effort into Art as I had wished in this time that i've been off work but it's so odd slipping so easily into doing nothing.

We live in a world where constantly being productive is seen as noble, tiring but it makes me wonder what is actual work. I have been so distant from my creative cycle that I find nooks and crannies to fill it in but I don't know anymore what my best time of day to work is... or even what environment.

Just now I had to turn off the t.v. to even focus on writing this blog let alone what to type. Well, let's be real the issue has never been what to say, what to write. I somehow have always had this rolodex onto what topics I could bring. Simply because I spend so much time on my own. Keeping my little brain occupied with what to do next.. The one alarming thing is simply that I have a very hard time doing nothing at all.

Today started a bit later, I woke up at 10 am from a heated dream of playing rugby. I didn't know the rules as I do now and I was in the midst of a battle. From there I decided to stop playing the Stick of truth and get my ass outside. I dropped off the package for Euan at the USPS where the gentlemen was of the utmost patience.

Another younger man and I didn't seem to have our shit together and were both sending off international packages. I didn't have a pen for the customs form and he apparently has never sent a box off. We were so out of place and the line kept growing, the man who rung me up didn't stir or get huffy he just shook his head at us 80's babies and sent me on my way.

Today was brisk, a sweater and vest was enough to bite off the chill but I run pretty warm when i'm galavanting about the city. The city of Seattle is probably my favorite part.
It tells a story, amongst the patches of grey in the sky are broken by tall streaming metal buildings with big pane windows that reflect the clouds. I'm in love with the honking of traffic and the hideous display of wedding dresses that I could never afford. The palace that they call a hotel, something out of abu dhabi that is splashed in the middle of grey concrete. I love this place, I love Seattle just outside of pike place and West Lake. The area that is closer to the Seattle public library that reminds me so much of gotham.

From there I dropped off my werewolf erotica (oh if only i was joking.) and head home. I racked my brain with present probabilities but even with my best of luck and a good amount of footing beneath me, I'm pretty sure mama's just telling me telepathically to stop buying stuff. I get it, she's worried and I should be but I love being able to guess what she might like and I like being right even more.
My last stop was at Aveda. getting my aunt exactly what she loves is a preference of mind. A very kind trans woman asked me if i needed help and provided some chamomile tea, the customer service experience in Seattle is unlike anything else. It's a bit corny but often times you're wined and dined.

I guess it makes sense since so few people interact with one another so we get the affection we crave from a complete stranger at Nordstrom or tinder. either or.

I brought it back home and was out of things to do.
Well not exactly, there is UI stuff to do but I have no idea what I can provide for this video game yet or if he'll hate so .. anyway.

Later in the evening I went to sushi. We laughed and stuffed ourselves full and I had to tell myself that there is nothing wrong with not seeing anyone just yet. I just truly have no idea what i'm doing, I don't know if i want to be hurt again just yet. Even if being hurt was a while ago.

I wont relive in this blog since i've typed and retyped but essentially my heart was broken in April.
I lost a friend and we will leave it at that.

Anyhow,
the dating scene here is fine but more often then not the people I fancy have someone else in mind.
rinse. lather. repeat.

good god.

flash forward to now, the heater is on high and the league is muted so i can focus.
focus-- how did i get so terrible at that ?
I sit at my computer with photoshop open and nothing comes out.

I could have 30 minutes at lunch and type up a story, or make dozens of sketches but not at home with time as my leisure.

silence.

I can only imagine what Leonardo Da Vinci must of dealt with.