04.08.2002 - Nothing's Something That's Important to Me

I've recently come to the conclusion that, much like underpants, sleep is more of a luxury than a necessity for me. I haven't been able to sleep in for about a month, so waking up to the bleat of my six o'clock alarm on the first work day of Daylight Savings Time didn't prove to be the nuisance it normally does. It feels nice not to have to complain about one more thing I can't control.

If it weren't for the almighty dollar, though, I would have surely laid in bed for a good six or so hours alternately wiping the Springtime allergy goobers from my face and changing the channel fast enough to induce epileptic seizures. Unfortunately, I had to put in a few hours at work. Though the hours may be shorter than what I'm used to working, I assure you my time feels like a prison year spent as soap boy.

After I got off lockdown, I hopped into Tha Party Van and ventured further into Sacramento to trade in my Rasputin's discount CDs. I got jacked again, and only got about a four hundred percent return. I think, now that I have a more reliable automobile, I'm going to head to one of the other branches of this store to see if they are, um, less saturated by my work and therefore willing to give me more credit.

Still, this is the first time I've gone CD shopping since early December, and I was pleased to get the six CDs I did. The only problem is that my van has no CD player, and as I've demonstrated extensively lately, waiting absolutely kills me. I made a stop by a car stereo shop to see how much fellatio I'd have to perform to get a new system. Prices weren't as bad as I thought, so I should be able to rock out at maximum efficiency in about a week. In the meantime, I'll try to deal with embarassing old mixtapes and radio DJs I want to punch in the neck.

When I got home, I made a serious effort to finish my column before sundown-- something I've never actually done before. Of course, distractions got the better of me. Phone calls and liner notes stood in my way, and as I'm the type of person who waits for the roadblock to move, I ended up with a blank computer screen as the Sun started to set, having missed dinner with Alyssa as a result.

Even though I can't outline, neither papers nor columns ever just pour out of my head. What happens is I'll write a paragraph or a sentence and then look for something to distract me until I can formulate my next idea. One one of my searches for diversion, I ventured out into the living room where I found our cable repaired and an episode of "The Adventures of Pete and Pete" on the television. As I recovered from my pleasure spasms, I looked at the schedule and realized I get two episodes of one of my favorite lost shows every day. This momentarily washed away the funk I've been feeling for the past week or so, so thank you, you red headed hooligans.

When I came back into my room, I banged out a couple of paragraphs before realizing what I was writing was shit, but by that point it was too late. Still, I didn't exactly feel motivated to finish, so when Katie came online and asked me to look over her résumé, I gladly obliged. Although I was happy to help, it made me miss my old job a little bit, and made me kick myself for being so fucking incompetent during the end of my run there.

She didn't want to finish her résumé and I didn't want to finish my column, so we traded. That's why the last two paragraphs of my column this week are better than the rest of it, in case you decide to read it.

With my column finished more than twelve hours before its due date, I took the opportunity to test my new theory on the necessity of sleep and retire early to see if it would put me in better mental shape. I guess I'm not so much a Mad Scientist as a Lazy Scientist.

-- Jeffy