On Saturday night I was employed to read my poems at a housewarming party. I didn�t know what to expect; when I arrived, there was a fog machine in the front, light displays inside, dancing strobes and such. I waited for the crowd to get a little more into the sauce, and then read a few I had just written for some specific folk, moving on to some of the more classic ones like �Caffeine�. I got to hear a guy�s DVD-Audio 5.1 car system. Now I can�t un-hear it. Pocketed a check from the generous host, and drove home past sleeping car dealerships and a fairly tame Arapahoe Road. That was the most interesting thing to happen to me in a while, though. I worked Saturday and Sunday otherwise:

The day blends like this:
I wake up at 7:20 and move around my room, getting ready for work. Get ready, see the folks for my allotted split second, watch Lucca try to chase my car, and go to work. Weave through neighborhoods until I reach Parker, hop over, and head across from the Brincos Training Center. When they train and it�s open to the public, cars are backed up all the way to our building, and park along our street.

I work the sales (I�m not a salesman at all), and get off work at 5. I get in my car and zip over to Starbucks, change in their bathroom, and am on the clock at 5:45, maybe after a quick dinner. I�m off from there around 10:30, go home, and all I have time to do is hurriedly take a shower and get into bed so that I can sleep a reasonable amount of time.

Because of this, I�m starting to feel simply divorced from my old life. I can�t have time to assert who I am now; I�m simply work. This isn�t trying to be some hyperdramatic descent into a total loss of self. I�m just saying that I barely have time for friends with a schedule like this, and I hate it. I don�t mind the workload; I can do that. I don�t hate spreadsheets and computers and coffee. What I hate is the total diluting and separation of me; I am expected to be one thing at one job and another thing at another, and outside of that, I�m asleep. I want to paint, talk philosophy, create great music, and meet great people. On this route, none of that is going to happen. And I�m sacrificing things for stupid reasons. I�m more discomforted at what is happening; a simple destination of Further Away, more and more. Time to quit a job.