Monday isn't a weekday, is it?

Things I did today so far.

- Woke up at a decent hour, took a piss and proceeded to go back to sleep for another two hours.

- Finished my taxes and e-filed them (though probably incorrectly and for too much money).

- Got really angry at the fact my mailman never comes anywhere near the same time each day causing my outgoing mail to be delayed. ... Again.

- Made scramby eggs and bacon.

- Thought about cleaning maybe six different times.

- Watched ten minutes of a show I've never seen on one of the four channels I still get.

- Said "No" to drugs.

- Had about three cups of coffee.

- Crammed even more music into my ipod.


If even two of those things counts as productive, I'd say its been a good day.

Clarity of mind.

This week has been rolling by nicely. With my recent spurt of productivity I'm finding my list of shit to get done to be almost nonexistent which makes for more enjoyable free time and a more clear head. Work manages to stay the same, if not increasingly easier and more familiar, and I'm still making ends meet for now. I played tennis yesterday with Craig which was great and even though we are both really bad, I think its something that we'd both like to keep up with.

Today has been interesting. I don't work until a little later this evening so I spent the afternoon catching up with and old friend from Tucson whom I haven't spoken to in a very long time. Its nice when you talk to someone and you can instantly feel that past connection; as if seven years held nothing against a familiar voice and memories that are surprisingly clear.

Also, something that's been caught in my head all day, I woke up this morning after having a dream about my ex-girlfriend. This wasn't the first of course, but this time there was no anger, no pushing of bodies off of cliffs and the like. Just laughing, and being dumb. Granted I will go weeks without thinking about her now, and the bitterness has all but faded with time. Maybe there is some subconscious part of my psyche that is, without direct permission from my conscious and immature brain, finally letting all of that stupid bullshit go. ... Or maybe it was something I ate.

Up and at 'em.

I am attempting to stay sober-er. I would like to see, as a sort of amusing little experiment, what becomes of my life if I actually give into this busy little bee lifestyle I've been shrugging off for a couple years now. Currently its mostly just a mix of boredom and anxiety over how much money it takes to turn around out here and just how little of that money I see myself actually acquiring anytime soon. Then I get really mad and want to Thoreau myself out the window. ... Sorry. However, if I can manage to, on a daily basis, push through the doubts and cynicism, I am usually then pretty positive about things. I'm gonna try and do this. But before the positive attitude rules over all, I kind of wanted to get this out... Acting isn't about being famous. Or at least it really shouldn't be. And if you are one of those people (actor or not, LA resident or not) that loves celebrities and/or wants to be one for social or whatever other crazy reasons, then please, go fuck yourself.