Remember in kindergarten when they told you that you are special? I was the naive kid that believed them.
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Time for some information update.
I've been living at the new apartment for about a week now. Hopefully, I'll be here for a while; I've had enough of moving. Living with people is definitely a good thing, especially when you've got a couple of roommates who share the same interests. Both Adam and John are good musicians and since our place is somewhat isolated, we're all free to make lots of noise. They both like photography a lot, too. Now if I could just find a place to put all my stuff...
Work. Work is...has the potential to be good. Apparently, the group that hired me just before Christmas came up short on funding for the new year. So now they're trying to put me on a project that actually has money to pay for me. I've just been brushing up on my design skills while the find me an assignment. Shouldn't be too much longer.
What else is of interest? Does that question imply that the things I said before are interesting? They probably aren't, I just like to write here so I look constructive. Pointless dribble, really.
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Moving is the worst. There's so much to do and it's all so difficult to figure out.
There's no time for anything fun anymore. What is fun, anyway?
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New Year's Eve was kinda fun especially concerning most of the night was not planned. The highlight was going to downtown Chicago to walk around the parks, see Navy Pier, and take in the midnight fireworks. Good times.
My only complaint - why do they always play Auld Lang Syne? I thought I'd get away without hearing that mournfully depressing tune what with being on the lakefront and all, but nooooo. Sure enough, passing Grant Park they played it on a loop for a good fifteen minutes. Seriously, who likes starting a year off by listening to the saddest melody ever written? I don't.
Next year, I'm going to go out of my way not to hear that song. I don't care if I have to stand in the middle of a cornfield with earplugs and a shotgun. I will not hear that song.
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Right now, I feel much more trepidation about going to California than when I first left nearly five months ago. This is most puzzling especially since I'm returning to a promising new position at work and new apartment complete with friend-roommates.
I think it has something to do with my inability to see clearly beyond my current environment. That is, I needed to return to the Midwest to remember why I value it so greatly. Being here these last eleven days has once more made a dream of California. A dream, a haunt, that marches inevitably toward a consuming lucidity. I'd like to stay here longer. I think it would help me realign my vision.
Now, I know with absolute certainty that I'll be back to normal after a few days in California. That worries me though, because I believe it to be evidence that instead of following a master plan of sorts, I'm getting distracted by the places I'm in. It's kinda like a pilot trying to land in dense fog. He should use his instrument landing system, but instead relies on looking out the windshield. Will he find the runway, or mistakenly land on an interstate, subsequently plowing the plane into gasoline tanker?
Another failed attempt to explain what I'm thinking. Someday, I'll get it right.
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