Too Many Shirts

Listening: It's hard enough to feel the world as it is and hold on anything. Without these quiet times you've brought round here. I'm gonna have to run away, I'm sure that I belong some other place.

What's my problem? Not enough molding.

I sit here at a quarter to two in the morning. Today has not been a productive day. Yesterday was not a productive day. The day before was not a productive day either. I could say that I had an excuse today. It was snowing out and my power was out from six in the morning until one in the afternoon. That was just a bullshit excuse for not getting out of bed or staying in bed and catching up on serial dramas that I watch.

The truth is that for the first time in four years, I actually have to be proactive about finding a job. The last time I was unemployed, I was unemployed for a mere week. That was after I got unjustly shitcanned from the Chez. I called up a buddy, and he had somewhere for me to work. I could probably do that again, but the big question on my ind these days is, "where is the right place for me to work?" I love western food. I love putting charcuterie and cheese down my gullet. I like pasta and big fat cuts of meat (which reminds me that I should really get a steak sometime soon). However, looking for a job reminds me that the white tablecloths aren't what I'm chasing.

I think that at the end of the day, I want to put my best shell-toe Adidas forward and bring it back down to the street level. I don't want my servers doting and replacing silver. I don't want flimsy plastic pieces of shit either. I want to rock out interesting good food inspired by the places that I have seen that doesn't give a shit about stars or reviews. I'm not seeing a ton of that around right now. I'm not excited about anywhere. I think that's what's making it hard for me to start fighting for a job. I'm not excited. I need the money right now, because Shanghai ain't getting any closer with me sitting on my arse.

So what am I to do? Where to I send my resume? Who should I be talking to? Who should be talking to me?

So what am I doing with my time? Well, as I said before, I'm catching up on serial dramas. I'm trying my best to clean up and organize my room, which is tough considering that there's two peoples' stuff crammed into it. My desk is almost clear. It's far better than it was the other day.

Today, I finally did laundry. It was just as much laundry as it looked like. Five loads. It was while I was doing laundry that I realized just how many shirts I have. I have a lot of shirts. See, I hang dry almost all of my shirts and tee shirts with prints on them. Right now they're on wire hangers balanced precariously on the crown molding on a little overhang in my room. Seeing the shirts lined up, I must have at least twenty something shirts/tees just drying. Forget about the ones that are in my closet or the tees that are folded on the shelf. I have what would qualify as a fuck-ton of shirts. I have maybe four pairs of pants that I wear regularly, but almost all of my shirts get worn. I love them.

Today, I looked at my shirts and wondered which ones of them would make the cut for me to take to Shanghai in a year and a half, which ones would be boxed up and sent into storage, and which ones would be donated. I wonder what it'll be like when I pack up all of my stuff and leave the place that has contained the majority of my life since I finished college. Would I keep all three tux shirts? One has french cuffs. Another one has a dragon print on the ruffles. The other one just irons better. How about that shirt I got in Vietnam because I was out of clean shirts and I liked the way it looked? What about the shirt that my boss at Au Bon Pain gave me back in 1996? I guess I have a year and a half to decide.

I've also been meaning to start retroactively blogging my seven weeks in China. I have the notebook where I kept the list of daily events right next to me. But instead of writing it all down, I'll start staring at pictures of my trip. Sometimes I'll see a picture of one of my friends that I met on the trail and I'll just stare at it for a good half an hour, when I should be writing bullshit cover letters that no chef will actually read. I already miss the people in China. I already miss the smog and the dirty street food. I miss having to look up to see everything. I miss the smells and the sounds. How am I going to get back there? And when I do, is Shanghai going to remember me like I'm sure I will remember it?

I have three goals for tomorrow.

1) Send out at least one resume/cover letter.
2) Retroactively blog at least my first day in China.
3) Leave the house for at least a couple of hours... maybe get a coffee.

It's not a lot to ask of myself, I know. But it feels like a lot. I also have a goal of getting up with my alarm at nine in the morning. We'll see of that happens too. I need to get my shit back on track. I need to wake up, shower and put on one of my many shirts and start kicking some ass. Time to start kicking some ass.