Now Playing: the faint strains of a Squarepusher tune...but mostly silence...
i've had Squarepusher's "Tommib" in my head over the New Year weekend. although it originally appeared on his Go Plastic album, it's also on the Lost In Translation soundtrack. saw that film this weekend (along with Eternal Sunshine of The Spotless Mind). there's a scene with Charlotte (Scarlett Johannsen) looking at the Tokyo skyline from her hotel room that makes great use of that tune. it's a short song and a noticeably quiet offering from the normally spazzed-out Tom Jenkinson, but it twinkles and it's quite beautiful. it has buried itself deep within my brain and made itself at home. it's become a theme of sorts for the possibility that maybe, just maybe, things will turn out alright.
yesterday, i walked to the subway before sunrise. i was helping out a friend with moving to a new apartment. the theme followed me as i talked with GOD and turned the early morning sky into a sanctuary. tears worked their way out of me as the theme grew louder in my head. i rode the subway about three stops as the sun came up, the empty car glowing with a reddish-orange hue as darkness gave way to daylight. the city never looked so calm before.
then came Monday and that's when it all went to crap. i had been preparing myself for this all last week. the subways weren't as crowded during the holidays, my work phone less likely to ring off the hook. i knew it would all come down today, as i came to the realization that the party was surely over. "Tommib" has since faded into the background. when it does appear, it sounds uglier, like a thick mold grew over the audio tape and is acting like a parasite, feeding on its sunnier qualities. customer service work will do that.
the restlessness in me is back, wrestling my calm to the ground and stepping on its neck simply because it can. that more than anything else is the aggravating factor in my day. i've have worked for less than i'm worth long enough and have long since outgrown the activities and the people of my current place of employment. and right now, all i can really do is wait for an answer from recent prospects. as far as i'm concerned, this period in my life is over and i want the new one to start. but nothing's official yet. no decisions have been made thus far.
meanwhile, my wife reminds me of the bills that are yet to be paid and the meager funds within the account to cover them. few disagreements within a marriage are worse than the ones you have over money. after a while, you feel like you're taking an advanced course in HOW TO WORK WITH SH*T THAT DON'T ADD UP. i could write a thesis on it, but that would mean that i've actually mastered the course. or at least think i have. why lie? this course is kicking my ass. in the meantime, beth still deals with the feeling of failure since grad school and teaching didn't turn out like she thought they would.
the thing that really irritates me is...in the grand scheme of things, all this is minor. it's not a tsunami tragedy. it's not planes flying into buildings. it's not a doctor telling me i have five months left to live. but none of that makes the debt disappear. none of that gives my wife and i some breathing room. none of that helps us to save up a nest egg. so while my situation is no tragedy, nothing that can't be reconciled, it's strain on the brain that i don't need. GOD allows things to happen to see how you're going to react. half the time, i feel like killing off all supporting characters in any scene having to do with work. i can't put my hands around the necks of those i'm forced to talk to or whatever forces that have brought me to this point, and therefore the supporting cast has to go. that's why i really need to get out of there. i fear that the threats in my head are gonna rise to the surface one day...and when that happens, everybody's gonna know how i really feel. that's just gonna lead to problems.
i visited my father last week and was able to peek in on my grandmother as well. she's had alzheimer's for several years now. she's lost some of her hair and has this glassy look that traps the feisty spirit within. i know she's in there somewhere; she just can't get out. last week marked the first time in a long time that i've been able to sit and talk with her. every now and then, she looked my way. she even said to say something, but it only came out as a mumble. we watched Wheel of Fortune together. as i kissed her on the forehead, i realized that i didn't feel sorry for her. i was sad about her condition and have been for years now, but i didn't feel sorry for her. if anything, i was envious. she didn't have to deal with the outside world constantly kicking her in the ass on a daily basis. but the beatdowns outside don't mind coming in for extra licks, and a disease like alzheimer's is proof of that. i just hope that her feisty spirit really is underneath that glassy stare and that she was able to hold on to a song that stirs her heart.
the checkbook, the bank account, and the bills all paint the same story: the outflow far exceeds the inflow. it only took a little less than two days, but the song is almost gone, replaced with the sound of the rain showers that i'm continually caught in. and it never seems to matter if i have my umbrella with me. when my brain is able to retrieve the Squarepusher tune, it's noticeably devoid of the theme that it had almost 48 hours ago.