Popular Misconceptions

I'd be lying if I said that I honestly had a handle on all this. I figured the job would give me clarity, balance, form. None of that, man. It empties nine hours of my life down a drain, and reminds me about it three times a day when I break to go to the bathroom or venture over to Peet's Coffee on Montgomery Street and catch myself in the window reflection. You think life goes by fast, but it goes by a hell of a lot faster when you're confined to an office, a computer, a window they sold you as part of the perk package, and a view that is really just a joke on you. But I'm not here to whine. I'm here to make it better.

So, San Francisco is still the best place in America. But, I'd be lying if I said it doesn't feel a little weird now. Being a broke bohemian with time to run in the park (but no time to call your East Coast friends because you're too embarrassed that you're still unemployed) actually brought more smiles than sadness. I'm not saying I want to go back to that. I don't. But, weeks shouldn't feel like days, and I shouldn't feel guilty about leaving the office before 6pm...right?

Sometimes, I feel like when you are one of those people that other people look to for answers, life can be real lonely. I have to get up in seven hours and do it all over again, but some mornings, I feel like this is really a test. Not of endurance, but of creativity...to see if I can break the mold that four gazillion others have fallen right into. The working stiff. The man I love to hate.

Finished Shopgirl by Steve Martin. Made me feel better about my own writing. Don't get me wrong. Its not bad. There are certainly some moments in there. But you wonder if you get famous, will people be afraid to tell you that you're bad at something? Or, is it the other way around. You become afraid to be too radical at anything other than your selected profession. Oh, who cares anyway, you know? I am, however, pretty excited about my next book, which will either be We Owe You Nothing, a collection of punk rock interviews, or the collected short stories of F. Scott Fitzgerald. Still trying to needle my way into contemporary fiction, but I'm at such a loss there.

Lots of great things to look forward to in the next months! NoisePop, Sound Tribe Sector 9 in Santa Cruz, Jay Farrar, and hopefully some Branford Marsalis at Nob Hill Masonic Auditorium, if I can get a ticket. (If you've got an extra, I can be bought...)