The Sprint

My house is the perfect metaphor for my overall status at the time so allow me to describe my living room.

Unopened mail is stacking up behind the screen of my computer. Letters with little plastic windows, which means they have bills inside. Cables are tangled between them: USB, FireWire, Mini-jack… Furthermore, a roll of tape, toothpicks and sea salt- still in the shaker, mind.

My pyjama’s are in a heap at my feet. Light green flannel with tiny cartoons on them, made by my grandmother (I’m not shitting you). Another letter or two. A cd case dangerously positioned on the floor, clinging to its fragile, costly content. Beside it, under the protection of a chair, an USB controller for Virtual DJ. On that chair, empty yoghurt bottles and a booklet “Engelsk” I borrowed from a far-away friend and didn’t remember to return in time.

More cables. An empty Aquarius bottle. A cardboard box with paint cans. A book, “Professional Audio…” Something- there’s a sock in the way. Two large speakers that work, two smaller ones thrown apart that stubbornly refuse to- along with the Hi-Fi chain beside them. Clothes litter the place, camouflaging my backpack thrown where-ever, a neatly packed tent, a wooden board.

If you were to tell me I urgently need to clean my place before I scare off visitors or give them some nasty infection, I’d roll my eyes and say “duh.” This place is a pig stall, because I bring trash of whatever I grabbed to eat along the way when I come home, sit down for five minutes and take off again, minus the trash. That’s how it’s been going for about a month now, with one (1) single sunday somewhere in between where I took the time to take it easy, not nearly in a fucking mood to start spring cleaning.

It has been dirty here in the past, but I’m really pushing it this time. Hell, I’m starting to disgust myself whenever I have the time to sit and look at this place, which luckily isn’t often at all.

 

What I am oh so occupied with lately is school, first of all, but as a close second the new theater production I volunteered for. Building an epic set in record time takes some real effort, you know. The time I didn’t spend in Brussels, I was soldering electro magnets, calculating the necessary wattage for 450 LEDs or hanging up 26 channels worth of lights.

Lately I’ve been successful in pretty much everything I’ve started, and in a over-confident mood I promised I would do several things I really never learned how to, let alone in this short amount of time. I didn’t know magnets need DC current! Every time I think I get it right, there’s something I overlooked and I have to start over again. The director is getting a little frustrated with my standard “tomorrow” answer.

In the end, I pulled it all off, but at a cost. I had to cancel pretty much all my plans, letting down my friends, colleagues, and in the end, even the people at the theater. I bit off more than I could chew, but somehow I managed.

I’m rather proud of myself. I showed above average skill with computers, electronics, technics both light and sound, and pretty much everything that needed done. I even had the time to shoot some pictures- more on that later. But what matters most to me, is that I had something to do, someone to be. This city lives and breathes and it is wonderful to be part of all that. As usual, people declared me insane to accept this kind of stress without payment, but what else am I going to do? I was born for this. I need some occupation or I’ll grow mad, and I’ve seen that proven in the past.

Today, now that the rush is nearing a finish, I can catch a breath and do my laundry. I can’t remember if I had a dog, maybe I’ll buy some dogfood to be sure. I deserve a cookie for what I did, and a degree for what I learned. I wonder what’s in stall next.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s