I am that kitten clinging to that branch in that inspirational photo that must be thirty years old.

As you can see, I have been terrifically successful in keeping up with the subject of my last post. I would chalk that up to uncertainties in the workplace which would make grad school a “cut my wrists the right way” experience; but that would be less than truthful. While these issues have lingered in the back of my mind as potential roadblocks, they’ve only just solidified as reality in my day job, which if you were unaware is: Manager of Logistical Impossibilities. As the title suggests, this position comes with zero actual power and a metric ton of expectations with horrible benefits. I have an assistant. She is looking for another job, as she lacks the horrible benefits the rest of us enjoy. I can’t blame her, but I know her leaving means no one will replace her. Hence my excuse that is not really my excuse for failing to move on my graduate application.

The real reason is an overwhelming sense of “meh…” I feel meh about my life at present. I’ll be honest, this meh-ness began the moment I left graduation. Sure, I was suddenly gifted with the ability to read books of my choosing, to watch TV shows I’d only read references to on facebook, thinking they were inside jokes made between friends. I would have time to delve back into photography, revisit that love of just getting out and stealing the soul of the world. More importantly, I was given the ability to work on music. The latter has, thankfully, become an actuality (see I can notice the teensy drops of water in a glass left largely dry). I have, however, been left feeling uninspired. I can’t muster the energy to put the work in. I keep meaning to devote myself to becoming actually proficient at the guitar – not just the no-one’s-looking-at-me-in-my-apartment proficient, but in a way that won’t publicly embarrass anyone. I have improved a little, but not consistently and not in a way that leaves me proud of my accomplishments. I struggle with being proud of anything I do, as you’ve probably noticed, but when I genuinely need to improve at something, ye ole perfectionism takes over and whispers sweet: “you’re nothings” in my ear.

As to feeling uninspired, that’s not entirely true.  My meh-ness has left me inspired to write about meh-ness, while at the same time sapping my energy to create from it. See this is the part where depression stops becoming this fun thing artsy folks have and evolves into something which puts the brakes on feeling in general. I’ve been here before, but not in a long while and this time there’s no one who is holding me back and needs to be left in the rear view. I have attempted to snap myself out of it, faking it til I make it and other nonsense. I have attempted to manufacture a crush on someone, but there’s no one to whom I feel crush inclined. I have learned through trial and much error that I am not meant for the world of dating or relationships. I just can’t live up to people’s expectations, which are often as minimal as just showing up. In the world of emotional baggage, I require one of those vehicles which ferry luggage to planes. Love is for another life, romantic love anyhow. I’m sort of okay with that, I think I do suffer from the fear that happiness would ruin my life. The acts of creation I’ve managed to accomplish have been collaborative, thankfully there are more inspired folks than me in the band. What I write about often comes from putting myself in someone else’s shoes, what someone who feels something might want to convey. Oddly, it feels totally real in performance. We’ve written one song in particular which convinces me I am utterly under the spell of an ill-fated romance. I don’t know if this is some hold over from my days in theater and I’m going method or just channeling something deeply human and forgotten. Or maybe I’m just gently losing my mind (I do cling like mad to my sense of humor, so there’s that.)

So essentially this post is my late-note, my excuse for not showing up. I’m not there because I’m busy waiting in this place as though it were a bus stop and the next ride will have the destination: “Out of Meh”.