No idea what I’m going to write about tonight.

No word back from the mortgage people yet. This week is the last one of our crazy four-night runs of big evening events (at least for a little while – just three nights in a row next week), so there may be sleep in the near future. I don’t really feel much better for having had four days off in a row, because upon returning to work I was swamped with a hundred shitty emails. Apparently I’m never allowed to take another day off ever.

But the rain has been steady all day, which has cooled things down and means I don’t have to worry about the garden for a while. And Eva gave me mega smooches when I came home. And Rob cooked shepherds pie for dinner. I already miss my home and I’ve only been back at work for a day.

I guess the unfamiliar listener would assume that I hate my job. I don’t.

It’s meaningless, and unimportant, and ultimately everything I build is gone by morning. Transient. Ephemeral. As my friend J would say: we are carnie trash…

But we have to love it though it’s painful. For it brings us home. Deeper home than anyone else. We become buried like a splinter in our own lives.

Maybe I’ll just hand over the mic to an old friend who fell out and lost his life to show biz. It’s easy to do…

** Credit to Eddie Sung for the amazing photo… which is also the background on my phone. 🙂 **


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