(no subject)

My time of day is the dark time
A couple of deals before dawn
When the street belongs to the cop
And the janitor with the mop
And the grocery clerks are all gone.

When the smell of the rainwashed pavement
Comes up clean, and fresh, and cold
And the streetlamp light
Fills the gutter with gold

That's my time of day
My time of day
--Nathan Detroit (Guys & Dolls)

Okay. This has always driven me nuts, and is always the thing that keeps me tired. But I love it. Love it, and hate it, and it's just the way it is.

I'm a late night writer. Late night creator. Late night Imagineer. It's only after midnight do things start to flow, make sense and become real. And then the dam opens up, and here comes the ideas. All at once...this wouldn't be such a suckfest, save for three things things:

1) I've been maintaining a day job which often requires me to be aware and awake and productive in the A.M. 8 and 9 o'clock meetings hurt.

2) I don't get naptime anymore. Long commute means I get home and just start doing whatever. Like read, watch tv, write, laundry, whichever. So, no nap. Oh, how I miss kindergarden...and doing tech support...I might have to resort to sitting in the car during lunch and sleeping as opposed to eating...haven't done that in a while...

3) If I don't start writing things down/working on them/make them real right then and there I lose them. Which sometimes means that I have (I kid you not) hundreds of post it notes all over the place. Or--and here's where it sucks to have a day job--I just keep going.

Why do I bring this up now? I just figured out the next 30 pages for Alex, I got a clue on a press release that I need to do for work, figured out a turn for the novel/thing that I've been sitting on for a year, and got a short story idea that I wanna crank out...and got them all within the last thirty minutes...GAH!

I need about 6 to 12 hours more per day...mainly so I can sleep. Or stare into space and not feel bad about it. That would be dandy.

(no subject)

What a surprisingly good day. How many years, and I keep forgetting that sometimes you have to touch the bottom of the pool before you can push off, rise up, and break the surface?

Things...worked today. Even if it was largely fuelled by three twinkies, a liter of Mountain Dew and a doughnut. Diet of Champions...that being said, all I had for dinner the night before was a couple of fishsticks and a piece of bread, so I think I can be forgiven.

After leaving work at a reasonable hour (?!?!?!) I made my way down into Long Beach (gah, stupid 605 "what? It's not raining? How do I drive now?" traffic) to drop fliers off at Fingerprints for DJ Liz. And dag-nabbit, why? WHY A MUSIC STORE! AHAHAHAHAHAMUAHAHAHAHAHA...

So I ended up going through stuff for a little bit, found two--count 'em TWO! Ben Folds EP's of great stuff...including a Ray Charles cover and A CURE COVER!!!! That's right, Mr. Smith's very Own In Between Days. And dang if it's not funnest!!!

Now to pack, and write, and stuff. Tomorrow, on the road to Tahoe! yaaaay skiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing!

Shooosh!