Remember When This Was All New?

"Walked away to another plan.
Gonna find another place, maybe one I can stand.
I move onto another day. To a whole new town with a whole new way...
...I pack up my belongings and I head for the coast.
It might not be a lot but I feel like I'm making the most.
The days get longer and the nights smell green.
I guess it's not surprising, but it's spring and I should leave."
- Modest Mouse, "World At Large"

I wake up earlier than usual. I have nearly an hour before I'll leave for work; it's just enough time to sit around and consider doing something, without actually doing it. Shower, don't shave, change clothes. Wrapping a tie around my neck, I leave the apartment and let my legs guide me down a memorized series of footsteps toward the train station. North Hollywood, Universal City, then Hollywood & Highland. My stop. I wait 14 minutes for my bus. I ride 17 minutes to the closest stop it will let me off at. Another 9 minutes of walking and then it's work.

"Hello, I can help the next person in line. How are you today?" Deposits, withdrawals, transfers, payments. "How's the day treating you so far?" Transaction histories, statement inquiries, cash advances, MoneyGrams. "Did you get everything figured out with your account since the last time you were in?" Check photocopies, money orders, split deposits, auto loans. "You're welcome. Have a good one."

Between customers, I think of my own finances. Have my student loans been paid this month? When does my next paycheck hit my account? I need to stop spending so much on coffee. When will my tax return be sent to me? I think of the next concert I want to catch or the next must-see movie coming to theaters. I think of what I did last night, the night before, and the night before that. I don't think of what I'll do tomorrow, the day after, or the day after that. Constantly reflecting, never predicting. My girlfriend comes to mind at least twice, even on a busy day. Other things breeze through on regular occasion: My family, my friends, the pet dog that used to be alive, the pet donkey that still is, a list of MP3s I should download, a list of grocery items I forgot to pick up, and whether I hate a snowstorm or a heatwave more.

A different hairstyle crowns my head--this time a slight faux-hawk. A "slow-hawk." I receive a compliment from 3 customers, all of them hairstylists. The compliments aren't for me so much as they are for the person took a scissors to it. 500 gay men give me the flirtatious eye. One girl tells me I look great in glasses. Strange ratio. My co-workers ask favors of me, I oblige. I ask favors of them, they hesitantly do the same. I document arrival time, lunch time, and departure time on my time sheet.

I leave work. Goodbye teller window. I get a ride or I catch the bus. The air is probably still warm, but the sun is becoming less noticeable. Train ride to North Hollywood. Walk to the apartment. Couch or chair? Drink or piss? Pool or fitness center? It always ends up with sleep.

Then it's tomorrow.

Regretful realization: there comes a point where even the exotic becomes mundane.


This Entry In Song:
Jack Johnson - "Adrift"
Sondre Lerche - "Dead Passengers"
Modest Mouse - "The Devil's Workday"

Be Back Soon,
Shaky Jake