A small peek into my psyche
Jan. 14th, 2002 12:12 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
enteleinI'm a girl who's always known the intrinsic value of having a routine. In my post-dot-com freelance world, I have been struggling big time with the idea that my time is my own, and that I must do something with it or be threatened with immediate and dramatic plunges into (depression)(frustration)(stagnation). A cocktail of negativity is brewed by this body that does not give itself rituals.
Since May, I have experimented with any number of routines and cycles and patterns to help me get over the fact that not having medical insurance, or a daily El ride to work is not going to kill me. I've not been largely successful, due to the fact that I am not very sure anymore what I am worth. My friend Tom and I discuss this all the time, and he's been my biggest advocate of being a self-employed person, a woman of creative output and un-shackled by corporate lifestyle.
I'd like to believe him, I really would, but it's been hard.
Anyway, part of my new routine is to have music be a part of my workday, kinda like how it used to be at the bookstore, and my journal entries of that time reflect this: I'd list the day's CDs played, and it really rounded out the day. I mean, sure, every journal reader goes through the whole "What I Ate Today, What I Am Reading, What I Am Wearing" phase, practically, but having that reminder of what music I liked and listened to (almost obsessively) is comforting to me, reminds me of the power of music, the binding nature of it, the relief my speeding brain feels at having something else to think about as I build website skeletons and muse on font choices and colors to use.
So, I've been going through all my old cassettes -- I've listened to two tapes my friend Darryl made for me, Etcetera, a quickly-made 60 minute tape of radio DJ favorites (he was station manager at Calvin College for a while), and Odds and Ends, a tape made in 1994, reflecting some of the sounds of that year.
As I've been playing the tapes, I've taken out the liner card and the tape, and run a paper towel with Windex over the outside and the inside of the plastic case. Yeah, I know, it's really anal, but these tapes get kept in two milk crates (I have a lot of mix tapes), and dust and fur settle on the surfaces.
Right now, I am listening to a half mix, half album tape my friend Jon made for me, called A Few Choice Words. Jesus Jones' album Liquidizer takes up a bunch of the tape, and then the rest is mix stuff, featuring songs like, "La la la," by Erasure, "The Dark End of the Street," by the Commitments, and "I Don't Know How to Love Him," from Jesus Christ Superstar.
Y'know, the Jesus Jones stuff? Not so bad. It's really energetic noise.
Since May, I have experimented with any number of routines and cycles and patterns to help me get over the fact that not having medical insurance, or a daily El ride to work is not going to kill me. I've not been largely successful, due to the fact that I am not very sure anymore what I am worth. My friend Tom and I discuss this all the time, and he's been my biggest advocate of being a self-employed person, a woman of creative output and un-shackled by corporate lifestyle.
I'd like to believe him, I really would, but it's been hard.
Anyway, part of my new routine is to have music be a part of my workday, kinda like how it used to be at the bookstore, and my journal entries of that time reflect this: I'd list the day's CDs played, and it really rounded out the day. I mean, sure, every journal reader goes through the whole "What I Ate Today, What I Am Reading, What I Am Wearing" phase, practically, but having that reminder of what music I liked and listened to (almost obsessively) is comforting to me, reminds me of the power of music, the binding nature of it, the relief my speeding brain feels at having something else to think about as I build website skeletons and muse on font choices and colors to use.
So, I've been going through all my old cassettes -- I've listened to two tapes my friend Darryl made for me, Etcetera, a quickly-made 60 minute tape of radio DJ favorites (he was station manager at Calvin College for a while), and Odds and Ends, a tape made in 1994, reflecting some of the sounds of that year.
As I've been playing the tapes, I've taken out the liner card and the tape, and run a paper towel with Windex over the outside and the inside of the plastic case. Yeah, I know, it's really anal, but these tapes get kept in two milk crates (I have a lot of mix tapes), and dust and fur settle on the surfaces.
Right now, I am listening to a half mix, half album tape my friend Jon made for me, called A Few Choice Words. Jesus Jones' album Liquidizer takes up a bunch of the tape, and then the rest is mix stuff, featuring songs like, "La la la," by Erasure, "The Dark End of the Street," by the Commitments, and "I Don't Know How to Love Him," from Jesus Christ Superstar.
Y'know, the Jesus Jones stuff? Not so bad. It's really energetic noise.
