So, here I sit in St. Cloud, 9:30 PM, with a minimum of 2 hours to kill. I’m doing a press check for work, which was originally scheduled for Monday and has been gradually bumped to Wednesday night/Thursday morning. Sure, that’s the nature of the business. It’s annoying, but that’s how it goes. I do this a couple times a year, in theory the only “extra” hours I work.
It’s not that. It’s the idea that I’m here to check on people who are far better at their jobs than I can ever be. They have a multi-jillion dollar, state-of-the-art press, probably made in Germany. It’s obscenely accurate, with little cameras that check the registration constantly (which probably translates to many times a second).
Maybe I’m just being grouchy. (OK, yes, I am being grouchy.) I’ve been devoting a lot of energy lately to thinking about what I want to be when I grow up. I was really excited to get this new job, and hopeful that this was something I could really get into. And it is. It’s just not playing out the way I imagined it.
Real life is failing to live up to my expectations, and it’s pissing me off.
I’m working late a little more than I’d like. Not a lot, but still, more than I’d like. The workload is heavy. I like it that way. But maybe not quite this heavy. The expectations are high. That’s good; it pushes me to do better, to be better. But they’re really high.
Of course, wherever the expectations are placed on me, I will always raise them a bit above that. It’s what I do. Psychologists probably have a name for that. I wonder if they have a pill for it?
In other news, since a new job with an extra-large workload wasn’t enough, I’ve picked up some fill-in work playing bass. I had a week to learn about 35 tunes, which I will play for the first time tomorrow night. OK, sure, we got together a couple times and actually ran through about half of them, but there are still a dozen or so that I will be playing for the first time on stage. Don’t take this as complaining… like I said above, wherever the expectations are placed on me, I will raise them a bit higher. I work best under pressure.
So, if you’re reading this and looking for something to do tomorrow night, come on out to Dibbo’s and catch Lewd Panache, with the woefully underrehearsed bass player. Or Saturday at O’Gara’s. Or next Thursday at Red Sea. Or the following Friday at, uh…. I forget where that next one is. You can look it up on my website.
On that note, does anyone read this? I’m always curious if someone does, or if this is purely for my own amusement. I do enjoy the writing; I just wish I had a bit more focus. And time to apply that focus.
And on that note, for those of you anxiously awaiting my book, it will not be done by Christmas as originally planned. I have not set a new deadline for myself, as I don’t know how much my time will be my own for the next few months. I may end up just posting chapters online as they’re completed. But, that’s a discussion for another day. There’s a TV in this room, and I haven’t watched TV in months.