Crap. So many things I thought of on the subway. Damnit.
I'm about done reading through the ShoutNY mag. I like it. Like it good. The stuff is very short, but there are some good pieces, inspiring. I should show it to Laurel, I think it's up her alley. It made me want to write stuff, start my own magazine maybe. Yeah, that's it. That's what I'll do.
Everyone is talking about The Seagull. Apparently at this point you have to get in line at around 10pm the night before to be sure of getting tickets the next day at 1. As Michael so deftly put it, "New Yorkers are crazy." And it's not because they so much want to see this play, though I'm sure it's great, but because it's the thing. It shows just how crazy we are. And it's free. New Yorkers love free stuff. The funny thing is I would do it, and it's not because I'm any great theater lover or so dedicated to any of these actors or anything. I'd love to see what it's all about though, and it can't help but be good when you've waited 15 hours for tickets. When else would I have a legitimate reason to spend a night on the streets of Manhattan in a sleeping bag? I'd have to take half a day off of work though. And you know I'd feel terribly guilty about that.
Bah. My mind is blank. This shit drives me crazy. And it's been happening too often lately. I need more time to sit and write, think, just more time in general. But really, I'm forever planning more and more scheduled things. I'm not going to complain about those things, though, like volleyball and audio class, because those are things I want to do. It's all the time at the job that's getting in the way.
Conclusion: It's imperative that I find a way to support myself that doesn't involve spending 90% of my time sitting at work and going to and from work. Absolutely imperative. Laundry bags may just be the answer.
