It’s 8:20am. I’m sitting at my office desk, which I haven’t seen in several weeks, reading the biography of Marvin Gaye and feeling decidedly like I’m not suited for a desk job. It’s ironic really, because 6 years ago while painting apartments for a living and scraping by on less than $300 a week, I wished for something more stable just like this desk job. As adaptive as I am however, anyone can tell I’m not a good fit for an office environment filled with pettiness and not-so-subtle comparisons of who has the best new Beamer. All this and I have only been here an hour and a half. I haven’t even had my PB&J for breakfast yet and I’m annoyed by the vibe in this office – and worse still, people are just starting to arrive.
In other news, we attended the first of five guitar performances at the Las Vegas Acadamy last night. I’m sorry to say it was neither what I expected nor particularly moving. In my mind, ‘guitar performance’ meant a solo or several solos of rocking out, not an orchestra of guitar players all picking the same notes. Sitting in the front row, I remembered how bad ass the marching band had been during my high school years, when Mr. Mack was in charge and they played Pink Floyd’s “The Wall” for a home game, sounding so much more polished and having way more fun. From a photographic standpoint, it wasn’t the low lighting we were originally told either. When we arrived, the organizer informed us there was a paid photog for the school present and we would have to work around him for position. (Said photog was later reported to be drooling over everyone else’s equipment). My first question was “then why did you invite, no insist, on having four other photographers pay to attend this event?” Anyway, each photog is only allowed to attend one performance as a participating photographer, so I guess it all works out.
Yesterday also turned out to be a day off for me. The powers that be decided to clear the job site mid-morning so I was instructed to return to the office. In retrospect, I should have just gone home. No one here knew I was coming or what to do with me once I arrived - I’m in the field because there’s nothing for me to do here. Anyway, it was cleared through the highest of channels for me to have the day off since I’ve been working so much overtime and to come back tomorrow (that being today) for a regular 8-hr shift. So here I sit without the promised list of tasks to perform, reading a book on a severely paranoid and insecure individual, waiting for someone to notice that I’m not doing a bloody thing and give me hell about it. So far so good, but it makes for a very long day. I’ve taken to amusing myself with random dreams of our backpacking adventure (set to take off sometime next year) or the book I’m planning on writing, filled with mischief and magic.