Relatively Sane

Sometimes it's satisfying to move a huge pile of boxes from one end of the room to the other, or paint all the white roses red, or do some other completely inane task that keeps you occupied and leaves you with some form of proof that it's been done. I never gave "busy work" enough credit. Today, I was busy all day. I was working on my Etsy shop and researching things and tidying up select portions of my house. None of it will cure world hunger or pay my bills, but it was definitely something, and it felt good. It's ok for it to feel good. My parents' version of the world, where any business-type venture is only valid and worthwhile if it's going to sustain you and your great grandchildren, is insane. It's bullshit and it's insane and I should laugh at them for being crazy. But when you're raised by crazy, the whole world becomes relative and possible and it's never quite safe to laugh at anything but yourself.

Now, I'm off to do something crazy: going with Aural Girl to see a friend of mine from Arts Camp 13 years ago at his random restaurant gig in Irving Park. Why not?