My patience is gone, my positivity is on a thread.  I’ve mixed six tracks so far.  Four more to go.  I’m taking my time, and it’s going OK, but I still have one problem.  I have to get up before noon and go to work for my dad every day.

I don’t mind painting, patching, cleaning, moving stuff.  It’s the little things that have been getting under my skin for years.  Rings of keys that are all in code.  The constant phone calls and micromanaging.  How everything is on short notice and nothing is ever written down.  How there’s always a fucking truck blocking the alley.  Even skipping CDs or bad radio reception often leads to me throwing tools across the room, or in today’s case, throwing a chair into the floor until it was in pieces.  Most of all, it’s that I’ve had this “temporary” job most of my adult life, and still do not get sick days, health insurance or vacation.  I get money per hour plus what I “borrow.”  That’s it.

Hopefully the mixing will be done in four days as planned and I can find a different job, without doing something stupid in the process.  That doesn’t look easy from where I’m standing.