Mistakes Aren’t Always Regrets

It’s New Music Tuesday!  That has nothing to do with anything, but I just thought I’d say it.

I’ve been here in Chicago for 2 weeks so far and I’ve written no new posts (the pictures were meant as placeholders… hope you enjoyed).  I really should write something about what it’s like to be in a brand new city, that mix of excitement and curiousity that leads to exploring miles and miles of this urban landscape on my (now painfully excoriated) feet; the equal mix of dread and fear that fills me each day I wake up without a job and with little prospects.  I try to balance those two extremes of emotion by carrying resumes (résumés? what a pain in the ass to type) with me as I stroll through neighborhoods and strips of shops and wide open parks.

But I know from experience that the first month after I move is a deadzone for writing.  Part of that is stressed induced:  Hard to focus much energy in what essentially is a not-for-profit hobby when I should be applying for yet another job.  Another part of it is just pure exhaustion:  All my energy has been spent packing and shipping 20 boxes, cleaning my old apartment, getting on a plane, flying halfway across the country and then moving in new furniture and unpacking those 20 boxes (well, 19 so far; fingers crossed that the next one shows up).  I sit down at my computer, or on my bed with a notebook, and no words come.  It’s why it’s been so hard even just to write this note.

It’s not quite writer’s block, but it’s got the same result: Zilch.

So why do I do this?  Why do I spend anywhere from 1 to 4 months of each year exhausted and stressed out about paying bills?  Why am I living a lower class life when I could be living in relative comfort doing a job that might be even somewhat fun?

A Softer WorldA Softer World

I guess I just believe in the coda.