Holy Fuck.
The store is being remodeled by myself, three coworkers, and a small team of carpenters. We do this business overnight so for the past two weeks, my days have felt like indistinguishable smudges across the calendar. This blows, yet, at the same time, I feel kinda honored to be playing such a big role in literally reconstructing the innards of the store. Tearing down shelving, constructing temp riveteering, displacing product, replacing product, constructing permanent riveteering, attaching cedar paneling, cleaning the god-only-knows-what-this-shit-is from under the old shelving units... these activities make up my time at work. Granted, I get almost 40 hrs a week, but it translates into a paycheck whose value is attributed to a lot of hard goddamn work. One more week (I believe) and we should be all done.
I'm moving again. I found a better living situation with my friend Rob and his brother in Carlsbad. Four bedroom house, two car garage, artistic/creative/driven roommates, and my room has a near-panoramic view of the pacific ocean and its horizon. I'll be moving in October, but slowly moving my shit over there throughout September.
I've realized that living with my current roommates isn't conducive to the lifestyle I want to lead. Yeah... they smoke dope and hold good conversation and the house is so damn close to the beach... however... if I want to continue down a road of creation, artistic expression through writing and music and visual art, I need to surround myself with people who carry the same passions. Not just stoners who work, eat, smoke, and sleep.
Things are moving quickly and I feel like I'm just waiting for them to slow down... I still want to study for the GREs and apply to grad schools in the next year or so. I want grad school to be the sparked powder keg in my writing career. If that doesn't happen then the Peace Corps or WWOOF. I believe that having either of these two experiences will not only build life experiences and turn me on to so many new things, but if I were to return to the desires of grad school, I'd be so much more likely to be admitted because of the things I've done.
Anyhoo... Such is life that I forget to stop and smell the path I'm treading.
