What a day. What a week.
did a shift with old mate DQ, my first in maybe twelve years? Great fun, nothing like it really. There's no sense that you are addressing huge numbers of people, but there's a subconscious recognition that you are really communicating. And when you get the secrets of the trade - beatmixing, and subtler skills like building an emotional wave, then there is no higher high than the recognition that you've done a good shift.
Sounds silly really, all you are doing is sitting in a darkened room by yourself (in an empty building it turned out last Friday) cueing up CDs, and if you are lucky as I was this day, some vinyl on Zed's last remaining turntable. I wonder how many have fought to hold back this last remnant of the vinyl days. The record library still holds a few thousand LPs, lotsa songs that you'd not find on vinyl.
Look forward to doing it again one day.
Today was megastressful. Had 3 appointments booked, as i thought it would be a quiet day. But the last working day before today, Christmas EVe, we received a call from our director, RB, who asked me to do some quite complex modelling. I struggled for a bit, trying to interpret my manager's interpretations of his requests. Never a great situation. Eventually my manager called it quits and said the director would come in today to work with me on the models. It was too late for me to change my appointments - well, the first one was not made by me - my chemist had announced to me with one day's notice that they were shutting down for two weeks and that I would have to get my doctor's approval as they'd rung her and been told no takeaways for me. This meant that if I wanted to get dosed I would have to turn up at the chem between 9 and 10 am on Monday morning (today) to pick up the next week's doses.
The only problem was that this week the month ends mid-week, and no script means no takeaways.
I rang my doctor trying to explain the situation, but as ever I could only talk to the receptionist and could not get my point across. I've tried leaving notes before, the last time, after filling out a page, the receptionist John dropped it in the bin saying he refused to give it to the doctor as "she won't do scripts without a consultation". I contained my anger that day, as I do every other day, and gave up. I ended up seeing my doc at 548pm, and getting to my chemist the other side of town (Highgate Hill to Toowong) by 6pm. Crazy. Just another normal month where I have to risk losing my licence to not get sick from withdrawal.
And btw, this is the government controlled maintenance plan, the one that "helps you get your life together".Lastly, I must note that I have never specifically written one of these rambling entries with a particular reader in mind. I knew that occasionally people would read them, as from time to time I would get a request for a correction, or just have it pointed out that what I saw was not what the other intended.
And I guess this has made it easier to write honestly (for want of a better word) as I was not trying to please anyone. Perhaps this site was my refuge from my damaged outside life where I juggle constantly to keep a variety of people satisfied/happy, by putting on a false display of my life.
When I was a kid I read that "once you learn to fake sincerity, you've got it made". And all cynicism aside, I guess I worked out that as a kid, all you needed to do to keep people at a distance was to present a front of normality - noone much looked behind the mask. That's what I thought a lover was for, someone to whom I could reveal the reality of my fucked upness without having them screech and run away.
So in a way this site became my lover, the one to whom I could confine my anxieties, my pissed-off-ness, my baddest puns, and the site would still be there the next day.
But I guess I forgot that real people read this, and real people have real feelings. That I should at least mention some of the good things that real people do, so here goes.
She is delightful,
She is a pixie trapped in a human's body,
she creates art of such beauty
she dissembles not
she talks straight
I am not sure what else to say. I love her and no other could take her place. I should have said this before. All the petty inconsequences of my earlier blogs are nothing to her radiance.