Needless to say, nothing will change.
Maybe a mystic with fortunes to tell
surrender my coin at the old wishing well.
Maybe the stars will align in the night
to show me the path that is right.
— Symphony X
Everybody loves Fridays, for a world of reasons. And I love Fridays for probably the same world of reasons as well.
Last month though, because of Christmas Carmageddon, I really abhored Fridays. I didn't need the stress that came with having to spend two hours in traffic going to work nor the exhaustion that was just a natural result of working for a whole week. But as with any period that one could call a dark time, there is always that ray of sunshine— even when it's already close to midnight.
Last Friday was OK. I wouldn't call it a “dark time” as it was far from it. But it was missing that ray of sunshine that I've sort of developed a habit of hiding from— like a vampire at four in the morning. So, it was a good thing that there was some alcohol. But I hope that nothing bad has happened.
Saturday, we didn't have football because the high school team had a tune-up game away with another school. That would have meant that I could have slept longer but I had to see a friend whom I haven't seen in a long time. He'd been trying to get me to go out for weeks and have a long talk about some IT-related stuff. It was all fine with me as, these days, I really need someone to talk to; especially someone who really knows me and how my brain ticks.
So, Kinky and I spent Saturday afternoon talking about servers and networks and office topography. But at some point, as it always happens, we shifted to football and some personal shit. He needed someone to bounce ideas of off and so did I. I needed to gain some new perspective on the things that I'm going through: what am I doing; what am I not doing but should be doing; what am I seeing; what is really there and what is not; what is the future— and is there even one?
We can spend hours and hours talking about stuff like that. It's not very productive but it sure as hell entertaining. And I appreciate the diversion.
But before I knew it, it was already Sunday. I've mentioned it before: our band rehearsals were moved from Saturday because we have more players coming in. However, apart from moving the day, we also moved the time. We used to have a 7-10PM time slot but we now play between three and five; and as one would expect, I could have used a couple more hours of sleep.
Jams are always nice— even when we've gotten to the point where we have to play a lot more seriously than when we started. It's starting to feel a lot more like we're working than just playing for fun, especially given that expectations may be running high with some of our classmates. Personally, I don't care. I believe enough in my friends to not be cowered by the prospect of playing in front of 500 drunken men.
To be honest, I'd be more afraid of playing if the spot light were to be that ray of Friday sunshine.
(Photo Credit: Brian LaPutt)