Working on the Details

It is I! Not dead, or even sleeping. Up and atom, atomized I suppose; a little scattered, but A-O-K.

I'm just waking up.

blink. blink.

And coming into focus.

I just finished a six day long work stint, which has been the main impediment between me and productive sessions with the keyboard; that, and I got hit with my first genuine wave of far-away sadness last weekend, post St. Paddy's Day, feeling a little alone and disconnected from all my friends; and like I wasn't accomplishing anything fast; and that I was (am) poor again, only now in a foreign country where they call really simple things by really stupid names; and there's not even any cute boys. It may have also been the precipitate hangover which kicked me like a heifer to the head.

Heather found some new friends, that hoary shamrock evening, and we stayed up into the next day, carousing in our little apartment with the beautiful view; and then I crashed, rather hard. Having already worked a 10 hour shift, I was a little overextended to begin with. Ooopsie.

But I pulled up my socks, um, last Tuesday, I think, and plunged headlong back into life after a very despondent three days, and now I feel fine again. Tired, but fine. The goal today is to get a toe in the door of a new job. I've decided that the private wine shop down the street is going to hire me, whether they like it, or not.

And tomorrow I'm going to get a hair cut. This is very exciting because I haven't had a shear since January, and I'm not looking as cute as I would like. I ran out of hair wax last week, as well, so I'm looking a little mousy and fluffy at the moment, but I'm not really out to impress.

On the cute-boy front, the natives here are a little scruffy and unkempt compared to what I'm used to, and the community is s-m-a-l-l; like Kitchener small, so I'm thinking that if I want to live in peace here, I might have to ration my exposure to the "gay scene" (keep the mystery alive, so to speak) and just wait until Sydney, when I can really gay-it-up. I think if I stirred up any trouble here, I would probably become notorious (or perhaps infamous) rather faster than I would like. So I'm keeping my head down, and drinking a soda water instead of a double vodka.

Who have I become?