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Language Log

Tuesday, May. 25, 2021 - 1:08 p.m.

Got another jewelry order to work on. Small one and I’m making some extras of things at the same time, instead of merely treading water. So that’s ok. This place, they only ordered about a month ago and now the little reorder. Noice.

Tattoo guy rescheduled on me again yesterday. I like his work but I don’t know if I want to keep working with him after this. It’s like 5 times now that he’s delayed an appointment, from hours in one case to 2 weeks at a time a couple times now. I assume he’s seeing other appointments in the meantime... people who he’s not canceling on multiple times. Why not reschedule one of those and take care of people who have been waiting? He’s implied I’ll get a price break, but all I want is my fucking tattoo finished in as timely a way as possible at this point.

Other than that, I miss having a project I’m excited about. The gum bichromate kick I was on last year was so good. And I still love the work but I don’t want to do it. I miss caring about gardening, baking, sourdough, canning, art shows, papermaking, photography, water harvesting, linguistics, calligraphy, printmaking, carnivorous plants, anything. I still have a drive of ambition but I don’t know to what end. I still have a creative drive, as seen just a couple days ago. So I don’t know what the missing element is.

Maybe it’s the way that I am finally learning that nothing will feel good to me for long, and there’s no destination. I don’t mean that in an uplifting “journey is the destination” way, either. I mean it the way I literally feel about most travel nowadays: I get there and then what the fuck do I do. Wait a bit and go home, and then try to figure out where to go next.

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