03/16/01

I struggled into work today around noon, having stayed up half the night writing that wreck of an entry from yesterday. (I'm aware it needs some editing. Work with me here. It was a long story to tell.) I had also drank a considerable amount of sake with Kerri, followed up by a visit to Templar Studios where I briefly met Dahlia and was reintroduced to Andrew. By the time I got home, a rarin' to write, it was well past midnight. I knew I would be fucked on sleep, but I simply couldn't help myself.

I somehow made it through the day, though I fully admit I had to take a disco nap from 4:30 to 5 PM, head bent on the desk. I had MTV playing on the television behind me. I believe there was some sort of karoake show on.

Karaoake shows should be stopped. Please join with me in stopping them. What can we do? Clearly something should be done.

Anyway, I've done a tremendous amount of work this week yet I still feel like I'm slacking. I can't explain this inconsistency, but it's there. I don't feel like it's anything I should have to deal with, but I think it's significant enough to document. My roommate's girlfriend, who works in editing for television, told me this morning that sometimes that's the way it works in production. Sometimes you work an awful lot, but as a project ends, there is always less work to do. It balances out, and I shouldn't feel bad, she said. That makes sense to me.

I was rewarded tonight for all of my hard work (and, I think, the fact that I have made my project so low-maintenance) by margaritas and Mexican food in midtown. I was joined by my boss and the woman who co-produced the videos for my site. We discussed, in no particular order: work, sex, dating, apartments, homosexuality, and New York City. This seems on par with every other conversation I've had in the last three years. This may be why I'm getting a little bored, though I wasn't bored tonight.

Near the end of the meal I looked up at my two brilliant companions and smiled sadly and shyly. I think they're both my friend after three months. Is that weird? It's weird for me. I know it's hard to tell if people are work friends are real friends, but I like them an awful lot, so I'll take whatever I can get. They're whip-smart, funny, and kind, and that's what I'm looking for in a friendship.

"Aww, I wish I could work with you some more," I said. "I liked you guys. And I don't like anyone."

They both laughed at me and told me I wasn't nearly as uncaring as I thought. And then my boss said, "We're trying to get you a feature article for (one of the new sites). We want you to write it."

"That would be cool," I said. It made me feel good. They were thinking about me. They wanted me to stick around. If the right people want you to stick around, even if it's on a minor level, it's probably worth your time. This much I know.

Tomorrow I have little to do, but I know it will turn into a lot. Tomorrow night I will watch my site be featured on an entertainment cable news show. Later, I will sleep.

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