Woke up to pick money up from a freelance client to the fun sites of having the Cadillac's back window smashed up by renegades, the homeless, immigrants, drunk frat kids, or a stray bullet from the Circle K that always gets robbed across the street. Any of the above could be the culprit, but it's now a rough morning, and the car is even less operational than before.
Anyway, so now I have a Sunday with Santogold and Gonzalez playing in the back room that's been turned into my weekend office. The house is covered in the wreckage of my roommates last few days of partying, and I have a very Sunday feeling.
It's been a strange path the last 10 months since I finished college, patching everything together with freelance jobs, trying to get enough to get into the studio somewhat frequently, stuck in the only situations I have available that allow me to get by in this lifestyle. Everything outside of working has gradually faded, even the clubs, girls, drinking, everything has been replaced with constant design and music, and I can't say I don't love it, its just different to wake up and not expect anything to change today, I just have acceptance of how things are, and the pressing desire to somehow make it all better.
