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A poetry professor, a bad day, and a bowl of curry walk into a bar…

June 14, 2011

Mornings are tough. Mornings are tougher when you have a puppy who wakes up at 7:58 am every morning, as if he had some appointment to keep. Getting up at eight shouldn’t be difficult, after all I’m on the verge of 25 (which reminds me that I’ve been putting off planning my own birthday party…ugh), but my routine is so inconsistent–aside from the fact that I like to stay up very late–that I can’t get up at the same time each day.

This morning was so nice, though. Went to bed early last night, woke up early this morning (almost with the dog), and threw on my workout clothes to go for a hike. Smiling. Sun shining (as opposed to the so-called “June gloom” that hits LA for my favorite month every year). All was well with the world. I even tweeted about how glorious of a day it was. I felt like a Disney Princess cliche while getting dressed. And then we checked the mailbox on the way out the door. And there it was. Less than 35% of my security deposit, with a laundry list of excuses and bullshit reasons for stealing my money. This landlord has been a nightmare since day one, but because I am such an understanding and trusting individual, I’ve lost over $1300 to this scum of the earth “young entrepreneur”. Quickly, the day was ruined. That money was paying for the upcoming St Maarten vacation. That money was mine. And it was a lot of money. You may say, “Well, lesson learned.” But I say, “Off to small claims court!”.

Over the course of the day I’ve tried to calm myself down, the hike should have helped but it only made me sweaty and angry. I tried to be zen about it, evoke my Buddhist upbringing, remind myself that money isn’t real, that a piece of paper cannot make you happy and should never make you sad, but gosh darn it that’s a lot of money!

And then, another opportunity knocked! A shift opened up at my place of employment tonight. I was already working today and doubles are discouraged, but I wrote a note explaining my heightened need for cash flow and it was met with understanding and the offer of the shift. Small victory! But I was running late for the lunch shift, biked as fast as I could (which, after a hike, isn’t as fast as I’d have liked it to be, but nonetheless, I’ve got strong gymnast legs, okay?) and was only eight minutes late. Those eight minutes cost me at least three tables, one of which spent over $300. I walked away from my lunch shift a mere $32 richer. But at least I’d gotten exercise and not paid for parking. Still trying to look at things from the point of view of a positive, happy person, I biked home to lay down for an hour before going back to work. Five minutes before I was supposed to go in I got a phone call from my manager. Called off, it’s going to be a slow night. Very few reservations.

So, universe, I beg you answer me, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TORTURING ME FOR? I’m going above and beyond to make some extra cash and you just keep shutting me down. I know, life isn’t that bad, I’m still going to St. Maarten, I’m turning 25, not 55, and at least I have a job. But come on, a little break? Did I mention that my car still needs to be fixed?

Enough complaining. Few more things. The quest for furthering my knowledge is actually going well, surprisingly, given my track record with carrying out goals. I found one of my college professor’s work online and it has been blowing my mind. I had completely forgotten about him when I was writing an outline for a short film I’m working on (the newest formation of a project I’ve been collaborating with a friend on for almost two years now) and all of a sudden he popped into my mind as the inspiration for one of the characters. Well, he is a poet, and quite the eccentric personality. One of those, brooding, emaciated, chain-smoking, coffee-cup-pasted-to-left-hand, not-getting-married-but-having-a-baby-with-my-partner, types. His class was awesome, but he intimidated the hell out of me. I found some zines that published his poetry online and they are just blowing my mind. His vocabulary is dense, and I have to look up almost every sixth word, but it’s worth it, and I feel smarter already. AND, as a bonus, I have a prototype for my Professor character.

Time for curry. Out.

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