The shape of a life
July 30, 2008
A week’s wandered by since my sudden change in employment status. Strange days my friends: strange days that glom and stretch together in an unpredictable fashion. I haven’t had a week off in five years. My brain doesn’t know how to process this much unbroken time. I feel like some hard case corporate recidivist given parole: after eight years of sharpening spoons and fighting off boardroom buggery I don’t know how to live on the outside. I keep trying to exchange cigarettes for extra prescription benefits.
That may have been an overstatement. Or a lie. The absence of structure, however, has been troubling. My brain doesn’t naturally apportion time well, and my attention expands to fill the allowable space…becoming dissolute in the process. While I’ve carefully managed my internal world, the outer shape of my life has always been defined by obligations I’ve been under. Without that external pressure things have become a little formless.
To cope I drink a lot of tea. Like, crackhead amounts of tea. The agitation fills me with a jittery sort of purpose…a sense of forward momentum. Drink enough tea and you can watch CNN for hours without remorse. I’ve half convinced myself I’m in the late stages of interviewing for a gig as Obama’s speech writer. I mouth inspirational words at the T.V. and feel triumphant when he echoes my talking points. While unquestionably deranged, it’s more prestigious than my former pretend job as a Liberty City bounty hunter . I need to get out of the house.
Tomorrow I acquire my severance riches, and try and track down my Psych degree. I suspect this will move things in a more productive direction. I’ll keep you posted.
 Mostly I just went around murdering cab drivers…which is really more vigilantism, than bounty hunting proper. Though, I still consider it a public service. Time to give the Jewish lass my X-Box for a while.