Wednesday, July 25

The Winfield tickets came in the mail recently. My friend Shawn called up not long after and said unjustifiably kind things about my writing. I haven't written anything in what feels like months and may be longer. T reports that he's been serving Chris Thile coffee in Lyons, and I suddenly realize that I might not be able to live with myself if I skip the festival this weekend in order to sit around the house sweating in the dead still air and skimming craigslist for tolerable jobs in the physically / morally / mentally / intellectually corrupt bullshit scam artist bureaucracy-enablement industry that is software. (The new boss is the same boss but behind a keyboard we the latest iteration of an ineffectual technocratic elite are allowed to pretend that this privilege is a sign of change. Jesus wept.) And meanwhile Elizabeth proceeds, through all the petty torment imposed by her parasitic and almost unbearably successful employers towards an advanced degree and a suburban basement preschool.

p1k3 / 2007 / 7 / 25