i have what i’ve decided to call “the worst temp job ever”, though that is possibly untrue. Possibly, or probably, i will discover in my life a “worse temp job than the worst temp job ever” and I find that possibility only minimally satisfying.
the planet ruling my life right now is characterized by a constant desire for a more satisfying satisfaction. i used to have a shower head that advertised it was “even wetter feeling” and if water has degrees of wet feeling, and higher degrees cause a more satisfying shower – it really was a damn good shower head – how many degrees of satisfaction do I in fact need?
direction = satisfaction, perhaps a true statement. love = satisfaction, perhaps true as well. no definitive identity relations hold in these equations…at least from my point of view. without any, then, the I is an i, is a me, and I am daunted by dissatisfaction. so daunted i did not go to the auto repair shop to file files and move files and unmove filed files and then move the files i moved yesterday.
but i am not daunted. tonight…a night for satisfaction. my horoscope said so. in the fine print that no one else can read without the lense of one experienced in such things. a night for a new bar – an experience always satisfying. i like going into a bar that i have previously only experienced intermediate to maximally wasted. it always looks so different with fresh, undrunken eyes, as the Elbo Room looked to me last Tuesday. and it was that in an effort not to be daunted i utilized those four gin and tonics during happy hour and wound up at work in the h.o.. and that i have utilized nameless other drinks and bars on these days of existing thus unsatisfied. Southern bars filled with southern men wanting to take me home or for a ride in their helicopter…or not southern men, but still, the same damn itinerary.
Satisfying would be a fresh itinerary. today i got a fresh itinerary, and I shall and am utilizing it. tomorrow i will make a fresh itinerary. everyday is a fresh itinerary, but how can that not on its own be fairly daunting?especially with the decreasing chances of visiting novel bars. what i need to find are the correct conditions for satisfaction = everyday. or satisfaction = breathing, cause then, i couldn’t avoid being satisfied. or, perhaps…
satisfaction = blogging.
christ, woman.
you think too much.
christ, woman.
you think too much.
you try mindlessly moving shit for eight hours a day…it gives one plenty of time for contemplation.
you try mindlessly moving shit for eight hours a day…it gives one plenty of time for contemplation.