THEM DARNED REVELATIONS
They just keep on a-coming, don't they?

The last couple of weeks, I haven't been paying much attention to the world around me, instead looking inward to figure out maybe what might be the problem with the way I'm living that I can work for 6 months straight and make quantum leaps in every meaningful section of my life, and then run out of gas and not be able to move for a month, during which time all the things I care about just slide back down the hill and I have to repeat actions and do more work, work I've already done, just to get back to where I've already been.

The epiphany, delivered through a weekend of bonding with the band and discussing what needs to be done with them (and some excellent rehearsing - the new songs we learned are becoming easier to learn, not harder, and enthusiasm is nice and high) followed by a short and cryptic yet unmistakable chat with my housemate which just ended, is simply that I have to know how to ask for help.

You know, this isn't a big deal, really. I mean, if you're actually reading this sentence, then I can pretty much guarantee you've not learned anything in the last two minutes that's gonna matter. I don't think my revelation is even any clearer to me for having typed it.

This isn't like Archimedes naked & joyous & screaming "Eureka!" at discovering the law of displacement, or Alexander Graham Bell accidentally discovering the telephone, or something self-consciously important like that. (Self-conscious, yes. Important? Not yet.)

No, the bigger fish have yet to be fried here. My to do list looks like this right now:


1. Sleep.
2. Get final paycheck. (The Ramen-only diet has worn thin quite fast, as will I if I don't get paid.)
3. Rehearse the band.
4. Get more shows booked.
5. Write more songs.
6. Something else involving the band.
7. Another thing involving the band.


More boring lucidity come the morrow.

(See, I too [Amber, I think I can relate] am trying to develop a sense of purpose to this life, both on this page and off it. I don't really respect or trust anyone who doesn't, either. It's called continuous improvement, and if there's any hope for we humans on this little galactic dirt-patch we call home, it'll have to involve a big ole heap of it.)