Perpetually Waiting for 5

Today is rough. Well, this afternoon is. I can’t focus my attention very well at all. I spent the morning creating a mockup catalog for our executive review, which filled my time quite well. While waiting for that to be ready to make I started organizing the My Documents folder on my work computer. After lunch I came back and finished that task. Everything in a folder titled m0rg4n, separated into Fiction, Images, Language, Lyrics, Miscellaneous, My Portfolio, Poetry, Prose, Resume Info. It’s astounding how much personal writing I’ve done at work in the last year and ten months. Some of it was really good in retrospect, even though I didn’t always think so at the time. The poetry and lyrics, at least. I didn’t take the time to read the prose or fiction. There was quite a bit of it, however, most of it not a part of my 1,000 words a day project.

I finished my organizing after another half hour of effort. Since then I’ve been bouncing between websites I track and writing. I tried reading, but it’s one of those days when I read the same paragraph over and over and can’t track the lines individually, I kept reading different parts of the paragraph out of order. I gave up quickly and thought perhaps writing might work better. Even if the writing lacks nourishment in terms of topic, perhaps its hungry Pac-man mouth will eat the time away and one word at a time I can keep myself on one path.

What I’d really like to be doing at the moment is playing my guitar. It is behind me, leaning in a corner where two desks meet in my workspace. I was tempted to say cubicle, but that’s somewhat misleading. The people in the rabbit warrens downstairs have cubicles. We have quite a bit of open space up here.

If it seems strange that I bring my guitar to work, you’re probably right. I try to remember to bring it on Tuesdays because I have an hour and a half wait between work and my dance class. It’s a great time to practice my guitar, which I have been slacking on. My fingers stumble over some of the chord changes of songs I wrote ages ago and know better than any other. It is somewhat frustrating, but there is only one cure, and that is practice. My calluses are almost gone, which means the only cure is a lot of practice.

I was thinking about the peculiarity of bringing my guitar into the office, since there aren’t a whole lot of instruments hanging around. Fitting in to the corporate environment came to mind, and then the old saying, “When in Rome. . .” I think I have a modification for that saying: When in Rome, do as the Romans. If you’re Roman, do whatever the fuck you want. I probably would anyway. I make a terrible conformist. While shaded by my upbringing, there’s only one value system and culture I adhere to. Mine.

Minus a few brief distractions, some of them work related, this afternoon has continued its boring-as-fuck trend. Hmm. . . Mouthy self. Where have you been? Why are you here now? I really, really want to get out of here, get my dance set up and play around with a chord progression I put together for the first time last night. BLARGH.

I am meeting a new student tonight for a private lesson, which should be interesting. She seems very interested in learning how to dance, and she’s actually close to my age. As much as I appreciate and enjoy my other students, it will be a nice change of pace to interact with someone who isn’t either much younger or much older. I think I have had one follow between 21 & 30 since I started who didn’t come as part of a big group of tourists who showed up while they were visiting. She is extremely outgoing and rather forthcoming. If nothing else it will be interesting. We haven’t actually met yet, she found me via the facebook page I set up for my dance class and texted me. I hoping that I find I enjoy her company and can train her in time to help me teach a youth dance team I’m going to be working with soon.

The local ballroom club is trying to attract new attention for the dance scene in the area and has been trying to get enough teens to do a choreographed Lindy Hop piece. They’re going to hire me to teach/train them. Apparently the club has quite a bit of money. Teaching them will be much easier if I have a follow who at least appears to know what she’s doing. We’ll see, have to meet her first.

Writing is not convincing the clock to move very quickly today. Actually, it feels a lot like banging my head against a wall, so I am going to stop for now. Til next time.

-m0rg4n