I dreamt that I paid 42 dollars for a ticket to see a band from the 90's in some bar/venue in NYC.  Though after parking the car in the garage of a shopping mall close by to the bar I noticed that I never had confirmed the purchase of the ticket.  So the sale never went through.  Luckily the show had not sold out and I was still able to purchase the ticket. 

Upon arrival at the venue I meet up with some friends outside.  They said that there was two opening acts.  One was a guy with a fiddle, the other I don't remember.  I peered inside the bar and saw that it was still pretty empty.  Just a lot of long sullen faces sitting at the bar and a guy with a fiddle on stage.  I realized that neither bars nor guys with fiddles interested me anymore.  

I also realized that I had no money and that the longer I stayed the bigger a problem I would have paying for the parking.  So I decided to leave then and skip the 2nd act and the band from the 90's , swallow the loss of the 42 dollars and just go home.

During this pandemic I have kept myself busy and been fortunate enough to figure out how to do that.  With enough resources and time on my hands, I find that I don't really miss things.  Would I want this to continue for a longer period, no.  But I do wonder for myself how it will feel when the time comes to get back into it all.  To meet someone for a drink in a bar, to go see a band play in a venue, to have the chance to perform with my band before a crowd.  

And will tickets to one of our shows ever cost 42 dollars?  I promise no guys with fiddles as opening act.  Except if it is Geoff Berner.

 It is a rainy end of the year.  

Some days I like the sound of the rain falling in the early morning.  Always hoping that it will stop before I have to leave the house to walk the dog.  

At this moment the dog does not seem to eager to get up and go.  That is fine.  These days there is no actual rush to be anywhere on time in the morning.  Or afternoon.  Or evening.  

Though having some sort of schedule, plan, routine does help from falling back into bed.  Or collapsing on the couch (that is part of the late afternoon routine, pandemic or not).

Two more days till the end of the year.  Today and tomorrow and then by the weekend a new year, a fresh start.  Which is a kind of ridiculous way to look at it.  Fresh starts are a pain in the ass.  Getting everything in a sort of order before proceeding.  Why not just work the course you have already planned out in your head.  Change is a gradual process thankfully.  Doing too many 180 degree spins, unless you are a dancer, figure skater or martial arts expert will just make you dizzy.

Stay the course into 2021 but make gradual adjustments to yourself and your situation as you see fit.

Careful what you fill your head with.  Save some space for your own interpretations.  Then figure out who or what is best to serve.  

Some summer days I like soft serve, others gelatto or Ben and Jerry's even.

The next day walk farther, excercise longer and no ice cream.

 It is morning, earlyish.  Still dark out. End of December.  

Coming back to this.

Why? 

An excercise I read about in a keep my mind busy during the pandemic book.  A way to get my fingers and my mind moving in the early morning.  Or in the midday or at night I guess.  With the current situation the way it is - the hour of the day matters less to me than what it is I do with those hours.  Staying productive when the question of what is necessary to produce, is a dubious one. A question probably best left to fondle after at least one cup of coffee and a slight decrease in this situational self pity.  

Haha, what does it matter?  It matters.  It matters the most.  

Most projects peter out after a while.  

Should one look at life like a project.  Or better yet as a projectile.

Instant coffee and engagement in what is.

good morning.