What Do I Know About Partying or Anything?

I suppose the first post ought be a statement of intent.  Why a blog?  Why now?

It's been terrible at keeping up with friends and family lately.  I figured this would be an easy way to let them know I'm still alive  That's pretty much it.

So, family, friends, what have I been up to?

Little background: the latest era of my life consists of me living in a new town, alone, for the first time in my life.  This started back around July/August.  It was a hectic time, with me being busy/out of the state one third of the month of July.  My plan was this: move all I could in July, finish up in August, and be set to live the way I want starting in September. 

That "living the way I want" part involved time to play, write, and possibly record music, and time to read and write prose and poetry.  I recently discovered how important these things are to me, and decided that, for me, a life without them is a life not worth living.  Not at the moment, anyway.

Two things changed those plans: the house, and the lady friend.  In August, I started dating/going out/whatever label makes sense, with a wonderful young woman we'll name, for the sake of e-anonymity, Dark Mistress Hawthorne.  I hadn't dated in three years and I hadn't been in a relationship for four, so I feel a bit unsettled in how natural it's felt as I now reflect on it.  You'll be hearing more about her, but what's to note is, while I don't regret time spent with her one bit, time spent with her isn't time spent alone, and time spent alone is the only time I can create.  In short, she wasn't a part of the plan.

Thing two is the monster of a project that is my house.  For those not in the know on my deal, one of my best friends from college, whom I shall call from here out Slim Jim, bought a house on the cheap from the county.  It was a mess when he bought it.  He cleaned it up, made it livable, and started renting to students in the area.  He soon grew tired of being an enforcer when it came to cash, so he offered me a sweet deal on living there.  The rent is below what I'd pay for similar in the area, and it's a whole four bedroom one bath half duplex, all to my damn self.  I jumped all over it.

Part of the deal turned out that I inherited a house of other people's crap.  This is both good and bad.  I inherited a fancy Cuisinart coffee maker, an assortment of teas and canned goods, moth infested rice, a basement full of wet clothes and sweet ass power tools (the tools are all Slim Jim's, but I have his blessing to use them), two irons (look ma, both hands!), more pots and pans than I can shake two irons at (because irons are heavy), and... let's just say it's a lot.

I never had the chance to really move in and make the space my own from the get go.  Instead, I've adapted to living off of what others left behind, filling in with my stuff when necessary.  I've felt a bit like a long term squatter, and in all but the three bedrooms I've cleaned out, there are remainders everywhere of the lives once lived in this house. 

What do I still have left to do?  I have a living room full of boxes that need to get put away.  I have a kitchen full of random kitchen... stuff that needs to be organized.  I'm talking, pull everything out of every cupboard, keep or throw it, then reorganize.  Those are really the last two big projects, but they're humdingers.

So when do I get to do all of this?  A normal work week for me is Tuesday through Saturday, 2pm-11pm.  My sleep schedule, ideally, is 12am-8am, and in practice, 2 or 3am - 9 or 10am.  This means the majority of my free time is in the morning, before work.  I planned it this way because every other week I have meetings at 10am.  If I got up at 1pm for work at 2, and stayed up into the morning, I would probably get more done, a 10am meeting would be equivalent to a meeting at 4am for someone who went to work at 8.  Imagine that, would you?

Friday and Saturday nights Dark Mistress Hawthorne keeps me company, staying in through the morning.  Sundays we usually hang out, visit people, go on trips, or hit animals with her car.  Not on purpose.  Mondays she goes to work, and I usually visit my friends and family in my hometown.  Finally, one day a week I'll usually go visit the residence of Dark Mistress Hawthorne.  This means all my unassigned free time really takes place from when I wake up to when I go to work, three days out of the week.  Unless, of course, I have one of those meetings that happens every other week.  Then it's only two days. 

What do I do with that time?  Assuming I wake at 8am, (It's happened!), I get up, entertain Starbuck (my cat), make some tea, and go work on something creative until 11am.  At 11, or if I'm truly stuck, I begin working on something productive around the house.  For example: today I put weather stripping around the back door, which was leaking like a cheesecloth balloon.  If I have to cook something to eat for the week (I pack my dinners), I do so at Noon.  Otherwise I keep working.  At 1 is when I have to start getting ready for work, though sometimes I slack and get involved in a video game for a half hour or so, causing me to rush in a frenzy.

I'm not sure why, but in all this, I've felt a little stressed and worn thin.  I wish I had more time to spend with the lady, with my writing, and with my cat.  Not to mention my folks and my friends.  But, for now, this is what it is, I am what I am, you are what you are, and tautologies remain an excellent method ending conversations in a fatalistic, yet positive tone.