And not enjoying it at all.
Every time I listen to the music that used to make me happy, that held so many memories of everything from painting the Shiva, to spinning fire, to just hanging out, I feel like I've been punched in the stomach. Tracking Treasure Down is the worst.
Still not employed. This is a problem, as I am rapidly running out of money.
I don't like living at home. I don't like not being able to go wherever I want, whenever I want. My mom never says no precisely, just guilt trips me. Yes, I know Mike has been out til 4 every night all week, so you haven't slept, and this is the one night hes in the house. But this is the night MY friends are going out, and I haven't been out all week. F my life.
I need to get some serious art done, and finish cleaning, write more thank you notes, send more resumes, etc. But to hell with productivity. I'm going to walk to the lake and spin some poi and maybe draw for a bit.
Tomorrow I'm going up to Vassar to see Danielle and work out an act for Wildfire's performance class.
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