For you, the dress code is casual.

Tuesday, September 05, 2006

Those Dirty Little Fantasies We All Have

Well, mine, right now, involves encasing this expensive microphone in concrete and seeing if it can swim to save its life in the Fraser River.

I know which side of that equation I'd be wagering on/praying for/celebrating.

That's not fair. It's not the mic's fault, it's mine. Yesterday, sore throat. Today, tongue-tied.

I have five promising minutes laid down. Promising. Possibly good. Not definitely. Not definitely by a long stretch. Probably not even promising, but in the absence of competition, I'll have to go with that.

I keep wondering what getting up in the middle of the night would be like for laying stuff down. There's that waking-up-speaking-clearly conundrum that doesn't apply to writing. Lucid dreamlike stuff works. I know 'cos I get comments a-plenty when I write in that voice, the few times it avails itself to me. But waking up to record that would be like trying to play Steven Wright. Yeah, it CAN work, but it takes someone awful fuckin' special to pull it off.

And I ain't some special case just yet. Sadly.

The opening I'd written is all right. It's certainly not brilliant. It's possibly good, but more arguably is not. But as I said yesterday, I'm just happy it's something. Something to work on.

Whatever. Back to the grind tomorrow. I may try the middle-of-the-night thing, but it'll probably wait until the weekend, when coffee and other motivational aids can be utilized. For now, chill time followed by a bath and sleep. Or am I being redundant?

Ah, the feeling of demoralization. No wonder there's no waiting line for this sensation. Jesus. Grr!