Backlog
It's been months really. I've been tucked away in my own little world, carving a niche for myself. Sorry, to those whom I haven't gotten around to emailing replies to (I can think of at least one person I haven't sat down to write to since they wished me a happy birthday in July). This weblog has taken a serious vow of silence too.
I've been keeping to the fourth pillar of the sphinx in regard to most of the inner workings of my business affairs, but they've really been dominating much of my external life. As far as personal things go, with Yeji and I, I've usually tried to limit how much of that I publish. Suffice to say that we're both working hard but getting ahead (she found work within a month after landing here and has already moved up a notch in the same company). Her application for permanent residency is sitting on the coffee table right now and that'll be the next step.
That brings me to the social front. It's 5am on Boxing Day. Christmas was a blur. I worked right up until Thursday-- solidly-- getting about 8 hours of sleep stretched throught random spots in the week. When I'm in layout phase, that's how things tend to go: last minute ads, last minute stories, and then the little things to polish off the issue, like covers, publisher's comments, and finally ftp'ing to the printer. Yeji worked Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. She'll be working most of New Year's Eve too which has scuttled a long-hoped-for trip to Halifax. I spent Christmas Eve doing last minute shopping and wrapping before hitting the church service in Black River and then exchanging gifts at my grandmothers. We had an early Christmas lunch/dinner today on account of Yeji's work schedule, and it wasn't until after I dropped her off that I had time to go home (not the office this time) and then just sit... and vegitate. That's something I haven't really done much of in a while and it feels a bit strange and underwhelming.
Christmas is basically over now. It is sinking in that there's not much to do here. I'd love to go eat out at a restaurant but they're basically all the same: hamburger and fries. The bars I used to go to have been repopulated by people more than a decade younger than myself. Smoking's been banned from anywhere there's a roof over you, and I can't drink if I am driving; so what's the use? With Yeji's work schedule, I find myself driving even on nights that I'd normally not be concerning myself with working the next day.
It's a question of growth in the spiritual (closely tied to recreational) vs. the mundane. In the mundane realm (work) I am really in my element. Every month there's something new for me to learn which lies right at the edge of my ability in whatever field is challenging me at the time. The magazine has been a great test pit for trying out things that I normally couldn't do if I was working for someone else-- whether it's fancy graphics, tackling an unfamiliar story idea, doing up payroll deductions, juggling circulation, or just networking... I can choose my challenges and then solve them, if only to move on to something more complex the next month.
But there is something I am missing. I am certainly not who I was when I was living in Canada before, which is essentially what I am comparing myself to. The surroundings are the same as back then, but I don't seem to inhabit them quite the same way. Even superficially I've changed. My frame is lighter. My hair is shorter (and starting to show traces of silver). I don't have the time to sit around and listen to Enya CD's or smoke incense under a blue floodlight anymore. Heck, I have to write it in my daily planner a week in advance if I decide to sit down and pick up the guitar for a few hours. Does this mean I am turning into some kind of perverse neo-yuppie?
At my behest, Yeji got me a blue lavalamp for Christmas. Maybe that'll help me find my mojo.
