Tuesday, June 5, 2007

I get depressed about jobs where I have no sense of purpose or investment... especially when I have so little control over the circumstance (my hours, in this instance) and I'm completely replacable. For example, yesterday apparently there was a mandatory cleaning day that no one bothered to tell me about. Of course, as far as they're concerned, I work during the day, so could they really have expected me to be there anyway? Who knows. I might get fired. It depresses me that my source of income is that fragile. It also depresses me when other employees gossip about each other or talk about how much they hate the managers because they've been waiters too long and are bitter about all their evaporated dreams. I just want to make money and go home, not get sucked into their bull shit drama.

Of course, here are the happy things: I went running yesterday morning and spent the rest of the day painting. I had lunch with Marty walked from the west side to my studio in the rain. The painting I started is nearly finished, and I think will turn into a series, although I'd really like to paint something less dark. I'm going to try to organize a show by the last gallery walk. I have this idea to do large works on light weight boards and suspend them from the pipes in the ceiling and make a sort of hallway type exhibit. We'll see.

My mother is coming back tomorrow to close on the house. I'm not really sad to see it go, but the lady who is buying it is a bitch. I'm thinking about signing up for a bunch of stupid mailing lists and having them sent there.