It Ain't Truth If It Doesn't Hurt

An Application for Longer Days...

It's a damn shame when you wake up in the morning and you immediately feel as if there aren't enough hours in the day to get done the things that you'd like to accomplish. So, this afternoon, I'm filling out a petition for longer days.  I'm starting a signature drive to raise the number of hours in the day from 24 to 36. I know that this will probably mess with some folks' sleeping patterns, and business hours will definately have to shift...plus dealing with an extra sunrise or sunset (depending on how the new day is structured) could have devastating effects on some island cultures in the South Pacific, and it is definately going to make celebrating Ramadan a little awkward with knowing when it's ok to eat and all, but other than some very minor glitches, I think it will work out better for everyone.

Really, I mean who couldn't use an extra 12 hours ofproductivity in their life. Think of everything that we could get done. Plus...that's more hours of party time at the end of the day to celebrate a job well done. It's a brilliant plan and one that will probably earn me a Nobel Prize...maybe in Physics since I'd probably have to arrange some sort of mathematical theorem to justify using the term "day" to refer to a 36 hour period or I'll just have to figure out a way to slow down the Earth's rotation...either way...I'm all over it.

Currently, even with the consulting projects I've got going on, I don't really have to be up at a certain time during the week (the weekends are a different story...I have to be up to greet the sunlight and to get to work by 7:30am). So, I've been trying to let myself wake up naturally and then use what time I have between when I wake up and when I have to be at my temp gig to get done all the other projects I have up my sleeves. I slept until 9:45 this morning, and now I'm freaking out because I'm not going to get done all of that which I laid up in my head to get done. Perhaps it is just a problem of expectation and pyschology...but either way...it's pissing me off.

So, starting tomorrow I'm setting my alarm. I'm going to make myself rise by 8am...at least until I can figure out how to get six linked nuclear reactors and a seventeen ton slinky, which are key components in getting us all to that 36 day heaven.

Working For Myself...Sort Of

The campaign is over...let's not talk about it. For the last two weeks I have basically been hibernating...rising only to feed and then slip back into what was averaging about 16 hours of sleep a day. Finally, about a week ago my body cried havoc and let loose the dogs of insomnia...and when I was unable to fall asleep one night until 4am, I realized that perhaps I had recovered from my six months of sleep deprivation and it was time to move on...or get out of bed.

My body's subtle clues at being overrested coincided nicely with my temp agency's assiging me to a part time gig...doing...of all things...entering in voter registration data from voter's that registered on the day of the election. There is something cruel and ironic about the whole situation...and it proves, yet again, that God has a twisted twisted sense of humor. At the same time, my dear gal pal mentorific Susan Raffinator, called me with some balmy good weather news...she had a couple of paying fundraising contract gigs for me. BLC Strategic Movement Innovations had its first paying clients.

About two weeks before the end of the campaign...we're still not talking about that...I came up with the idea that perhaps I should go into business for myself. I wrote up a one page document that talked about the services I could offer, some vague pricing information, and relevant work experience, I sent out emails to about two thousand people, and then I plunged into the final days of electoral mayhem. Now, thanks to Susan, I have two contracts...and thanks to a tip off from my new roommate Antonio, I have a meeting with a third possible client this week. Faboo I tell you, faboo. My temp gig is in the evenings and on the weekends, so I have my days and all day Friday to get this small business venture of mine up and off the ground. I swung by and celebrated Chamindiklaus day with Chamindika on Saturday (check out www.chamindika.com), and she told me about a cool local initiative through WomenVenture that supports the development of small businesses, helps you save moola for business expenses, and matches by three times the money that you put into your savings account. Hallelujah. So, I am going to on top of that as quickly as a gay man at a bath house gets on the nearest erect penis.

So that's work...on another note...last night I was woken up from a dead sleep by one of the most fantastic dreams I've had in a long time. It started out as a dream about going out dancing with my friend Ramon and the gang. We were sifting through possible costumes that we could make from things in our closest...and my choices somehow were a slutty cheerleader or a church lady. I chose the church lady outfit. I was to be a big bosomed black church lady wearing a big red Sunday hat and a big red choir robe with some high heeled red shoes. Fantastic. My dream then became, of course, a gospel musical. What was funny was that I woke up several times and fell back asleep and the musical continued...that never happens with my dreams. Finally God woke my butt up and said...write a play boy...a musical...called Church Ladies...and by God I am going to do it.  It's going to be the story of a gay black man (possibly trans identified) that grew up in the church...who returns to the church...in drag...and comes out to his Father and Mother. It's going to be the story of his Father coming to accept him and the church coming to accept him. I'm going to tell the story through the eyes of the Church Ladies, that group of venerable black women that can be found in any black congregation...particularly through the eyes of his Mother. And I'm going to write the lyrics to all the gospel songs...I'm jazzed...I even wrote the first words to a song last night. Hey Glory.