Plummeting Out of Sight and Sound

So I will finish Chapter 4 by tomorrow.

Cranking out a chapter in one week is mildly impressive if i don’t say so myself.  Doing it isn’t actually the hard part, sitting DOWN to do it is.

So tonight, or tomorrow, or what have you, is Daylight Savings end.  Be prepared for a glorious 25 hour sunday! yesss….  I will spend that extra hour doing massive amounts of laundry methinks.  I still want to know the true story behind the whole Daylight Savings thing to begin with.  Was it for farmers?  Was it so they could have more daylight hours to work and spread their seed, sow their seed, and reap their seed?  Too many mixed metaphors there.  Or was it for golfers as so many cynics seem to propagate into whatever pool of ears that choose to swim?

I honestly don’t know what to believe.  I think it is sort of silly and awesome at the same time though.  On the one hand it is sort of borderline retarded that we continue to do it, or even DO it in the first place.  If you step back and think about it logically, there really is no reason to do it.  But on the other, it does change things up, adds some flavor to the seasons…”oh gosh! now it gets dark at 5! that sucks! but it is so much different from what I am used to and breaks the banality of my commute home! Light to dark in one hour of clocks being off the clock.

Damn golfers.  I have hit one birdie in my life, and it was a combination of sheer luck/ wind and lunar variation/ and prayers to Allah.  I have never since scored below par, and to be quite Frank, me and Par aren’t really the best of bosom chums either.  i think we have hung out a few times, hit a movie here or there, taken a pottery class together on an odd weekend or two. but nothing serious.

Now bogies, me and the bogey are quite well acquainted.  And his younger brothers and sisters also.  I generally score my golf like it is a basketball game, so i feel good about my scores compared to those i play with.  i always win that way.

 

Now off of golf.

My resume sounds pretty sweet.  I applied two overseas jobs already, and will be applying to a third in the next week, so i needed to get my professional cover letter in order.  It is thin, but i am the king of making things sound much more impressive than they actually are. for example:

Movie Theatre Employee–> Cinematic Experience Distribution Supervisor.

TECHNICALLY the same thing….but not. But is.

And i realize something about life in all of this.  Making your way in life is about appearances.  Everyone seems to always APPEAR better than they actually are.  It reflects American living style, working habits, and yes, our resumes.

We are constantly concerned with making ourselves look, sound, and appear much more impressive.  I have come to the conclusion that hardly ANYONE works as hard as they say they do…i know nobody I have ever worked with does.  we buy things we can’t afford, have cars we cannot finance, and buy clothes that chafe as much as the price tag, all to look the part in which we wish to participate.  It isn’t cynical, it isn’t vindictive, it is simply an observation about how human being comprise themselves.  I think the smart chappy, realizes that everyone is performing, and decides to hang up his script and just roll with it.  No one else will notice, they will be too busy trying to look impressive.

I’m not there yet, i still have a carefully crafted script between muh badger paws,  but one day i want to through it off my apartment balcony.  Thats right, apartment.  I aspire to live in an apartment for the rest of my life.  I dont need a big stupid house.  Give me 800 square feet of well manicured and modern living space and I’m a chirpy cricket.

I don’t want Cars, or gear, or tricked out go-go Jet Planes.

But i still want to be rich, because I want to be able to give random people 10 thousand dollars.  Laugh and don’t believe me if you want, but the first point in my life where I can spare 10 grand, im going to give it to the first frowny face I see.

I like making people happy.  And i don’t like sports cars, Star-Dust, Badrock, or having houses I dont live in.

So for the depressed man in a loosened neck tie, chipped Ray-Bans, worry lines, and a half stirred Caramel Machiatto, sitting outside of Starbucks in need of His good ole Uncles a-la Benjamins, Make me rich world.

“A city that doesn’t say hello back is a backwater cesspool not worthy of the 20 in gas it takes to turn tail and bail.”

-Mr. Rogers-

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