Up late again. One interesting side effect of prolonged unemployment has been the steady tilting of my sleep schedule in a later direction. I’ve always been a night owl, but am now finding that left to my own devices and schedule, going to bed at 3 am doesn’t feel too odd as long as getting up at 10 is also OK. I remember working swing shift at Wherehouse Records eons ago, from 4-midnight, and even then that seemed like the best possible work shift to me: wake up around 10; have the whole day to do errands, go to school, whatever while everyone else is at work; work from 4-12; then spend a couple of prime late-night hours relaxing before going to bed at 2.
Of course, this presupposes either a somewhat isolated life or a group of similarly-minded friends and loved ones, which might explain my total lack of dates for most of 1986. Well, that and my incipient coming out the following spring, but that’s a tale for some other time. Right now I have to get to bed, because despite my nocturnal nature, I’ve agreed to call and wake my sweetie up at 7:15, which means that I have to at least be awake enough to hit speed dial properly.
Just another mellow day at the ranch…I could get used to not having a day job except for the apparent need for money. And the innate need for structured activity. Well, and the desire to commune with similarly engaged folks on a consistent basis. Still, I am making use of the time and the $$ haven’t dried up quite yet. I’m hoping to at least get some kind of retail job to keep the cash flow going, but even those have been hard to come by. With Boeing apparently ready to lay off a bunch more people, I don’t expect that to change anytime soon, either. I may have inadvertantly launched a freelance life by default. We’ll see what shakes out with the irons I still have in the fire.
One good thing that has come from all of this, though, is finally finding the time and drive to take writing seriously. I may not ever be able to make a living from words alone, but I’ve at least reached the point where I write them anyway. It’s still difficult to let go of needing to do it perfectly the first time, but there’s a little voice now that says, “If shitty first drafts are good enough for Anne Lamott, then they’re good enough for you. Go write some already.” I hope that voice decides to stick around for a while.
