Where the Furnishings Go

So today I built a desk without smashing up any part of it or throwing any it around the room. I did try to eat the manual at one point in defiance of how poorly phrased the instructions were. By the last page it seemed to have quit entirely, informing me to "attach the top to the desk now" although not really telling me how.

With the necessary sense of masculine satisfaction out of the way, the bullshit task follows of figuring out exactly why I bought the thing in the first place. Specifically it's to get the studying and creating side of things away from the TV and the stereo, but where does the PC sit in that? is it a media base slave to the front room or a tool of work and study for the privacy of the bedroom (which due to some phenomenal bookcasing is the only place the new desk can be)?

Ultimately what it comes down to is not knowing how good something's going to be in a place until you actually fucking try it. People always say that the chair looks good there or the futon belongs over there in case anyone needs it, but until someone trips on the chair or you spend 6 months with no-one visiting, how exactly do you know?

Nothing like a long blog entry to test whether you're happy typing on the big screen.

Still undecided.

Nick
xx

Thank You for Calling

So I quit my job this week. I say "quit" rather than "left" or "lost" because I specifically feel like I gave up on something. I can handle a depth of information at my finger tips and I can handle constant harassment by ungrateful customers. i just can't seem to handle them both at the same time without declaring a lack of "single solitary fucks" left to give and triumphantly log off and ask to leave. I'm not ashamed.

What annoys me the most is the sudden but predictable gear change. After spending three months screeching at an unfair lack of free time with a determination measured in Batmans, I find that as soon as I've left that role I'm waking up late, watching a shocking amount of syndicated TV I've already seen (American Dad is the new Scrubs, it seems), and putting far too much shit off until a tomorrow that has yet to come.

I think unemployment falls down when looking for a further job and indulging your hobbies and personal projects can so readily be done side-by-side, something made a hell of a lot easier by a ridiculously large screen and keeping musical instruments in the TV room.

The solution? Well naturally there isn't one, but thinking of projects and interests as work and something absolutely you have to do, or isolating the space in which you jobsearch so that it's nothing but you and a cold list of vacancies seems to help. Seems to help.

Nick

Next Week: Well, a shitload more blogs as my "free" time expands even further out of control.