Tuesday, May 23, 2006
Tonight I can be arsed, but only for 30 minutes. "C. S. I. : Crime Scene Investigation" is on, followed by the "Lost" double bill.
Yesterday was a 'mare of a day.
Lorraine had left me the cat litter to be changed. I did that. I washed. I dressed. I then discovered that Moon The Cat had decided to have a laugh and do a shit in his litter tray, the hallway, the living room and the kitchen. (He is not well. Lorraine insists that we give him a mixture of diabetic cat food and normal cat food, because he doesn't like the diabetic cat food on it's own and he would rather starve. Moon The Cat has moments.) Moon The Cat smiled at me. I swear it. He smiled at me. I didn't shout at him. That wouldn't have been right. I cleaned it up and missed my bus.
Work. Crisis after crisis. Several customers complaining about the service I'm supplying. Whatever. That particular issue will be addressed once The Company figure out a way to clone me and stick the other Pynchon at another desk, on another phone. The Company are not interested in doing anything to ease the pressure that I am under. I realise that. I work on the older product that lots of customers have already moved away from it and the remaining customers, that The Company have conveniently forgotten bring in a fair wedge of money, can go hang as far as they are concerned. It's a bad situation. I was in a bad mood all day. I snapped at people. I sent ratty emails. I was vocal in my displeasure. Lorraine came over to try to calm me down. I bit her head off and spat it across the room.
Home. Lorraine braced me on my attitude. She said that I am undermining her authority. I told her to fuck off. (Ah, that Oscar Wildean wit! It never leaves me.) I retired to the computer intending to write something about a film for a friend. I wrote a couple of pages and then deleted the lot because it was shit. (But I now know what I am going to write, so it was not a total waste.) I uploaded some music to my MP3 player ("Led Zeppelin", "Led Zeppelin III" and "The Magic Numbers"). I flicked through the tracks to check they were OK. I put the MP3 player on random and then I logged onto Blogger intending to knock something out.
And then I stopped.
The first track that came up on my MP3 player was "Nowhere Man" by the Beatles. I hope you know that song. It's one of Lennon's best. Written when he was up against the cosh because he needed to write an extra song for "Rubber Soul". He was stuck, getting nowhere and he wrote down the words, "Sitting in a nowhere land" and the song came out of that. Did John Lennon know me? That song was all about me. Fucking right it was.
The second song that came up was "I Am The Cosmos" by the late, brilliant Chris Bell. (Look him up if you are interested.) Another self analysis song. I was thinking about Vicky when that was playing and when it had finished, I gave up.
Music can be a terrible thing. It can put your head into a strange place. Or is that just me?
So, no. Last night I really couldn't be arsed.
Yesterday was a 'mare of a day.
Lorraine had left me the cat litter to be changed. I did that. I washed. I dressed. I then discovered that Moon The Cat had decided to have a laugh and do a shit in his litter tray, the hallway, the living room and the kitchen. (He is not well. Lorraine insists that we give him a mixture of diabetic cat food and normal cat food, because he doesn't like the diabetic cat food on it's own and he would rather starve. Moon The Cat has moments.) Moon The Cat smiled at me. I swear it. He smiled at me. I didn't shout at him. That wouldn't have been right. I cleaned it up and missed my bus.
Work. Crisis after crisis. Several customers complaining about the service I'm supplying. Whatever. That particular issue will be addressed once The Company figure out a way to clone me and stick the other Pynchon at another desk, on another phone. The Company are not interested in doing anything to ease the pressure that I am under. I realise that. I work on the older product that lots of customers have already moved away from it and the remaining customers, that The Company have conveniently forgotten bring in a fair wedge of money, can go hang as far as they are concerned. It's a bad situation. I was in a bad mood all day. I snapped at people. I sent ratty emails. I was vocal in my displeasure. Lorraine came over to try to calm me down. I bit her head off and spat it across the room.
Home. Lorraine braced me on my attitude. She said that I am undermining her authority. I told her to fuck off. (Ah, that Oscar Wildean wit! It never leaves me.) I retired to the computer intending to write something about a film for a friend. I wrote a couple of pages and then deleted the lot because it was shit. (But I now know what I am going to write, so it was not a total waste.) I uploaded some music to my MP3 player ("Led Zeppelin", "Led Zeppelin III" and "The Magic Numbers"). I flicked through the tracks to check they were OK. I put the MP3 player on random and then I logged onto Blogger intending to knock something out.
And then I stopped.
The first track that came up on my MP3 player was "Nowhere Man" by the Beatles. I hope you know that song. It's one of Lennon's best. Written when he was up against the cosh because he needed to write an extra song for "Rubber Soul". He was stuck, getting nowhere and he wrote down the words, "Sitting in a nowhere land" and the song came out of that. Did John Lennon know me? That song was all about me. Fucking right it was.
The second song that came up was "I Am The Cosmos" by the late, brilliant Chris Bell. (Look him up if you are interested.) Another self analysis song. I was thinking about Vicky when that was playing and when it had finished, I gave up.
Music can be a terrible thing. It can put your head into a strange place. Or is that just me?
So, no. Last night I really couldn't be arsed.
# posted by Pynchon @ 8:26 pm 
