It's Friday. The day that you thought was never gonna come has finally come. No fuckin' work for two days.
What are you going to do this weekend, farmboy?
You'll be proud of me. I'm going to be social, for a change. I'm going to have dinner with a friend of mine then I go to play the holiday concert at the coffeehouse. This should be fun. Then a friend of mine has his birthday on Sunday and there's gonna be a party that I'm going to go to for a little while. And in between all that, I've gotta go over my brother's house so I can wash clothes.
Just a few songs. I'll probably sing "Hot Buttered Rum," a song by Tommy Thompson of the Red Clay Ramblers, who are one of my all-time favorite bands. That's a good winter-type song. I should do a Christmas song. Maybe "Away in a Manger." We'll see.
I've been getting so nervous lately. I really want to be relaxed on stage tomorrow.
Are you going to practice beforehand?
Oh, yeah. I'm gonna make up my mind as to what I'm playing, then hopefully rehearse them a few times.
Man, it feels so fuckin' good to know that I don't have to go in to work tomorrow morning.
One more week until winter break.
Which is the carrot and I am the horse. Which, really, is what life is all about. Well, except for love and art and music and sex. Which I approve of. Which I am in favor of. I have never used the word "which" so much in my life, by the way.
You're right, though, farmboy. We all need rewards.
We need something to anticipate, something to look forward to. I think that's part of being a human being.
Something to work towards?
Oh, definitely. I can't imagine not being ambitious. And that, ultimately, may be my problem in life. Or one of my many blessings, I don't know.