Busy week. Didn’t even say humpers to you yet. So, humpers.

More than busy, actually, it’s been challenging. A good friend of mine, someone whose work I always liked and supported, had a bad thing happen. He ran this big workshop that was supposed to be the first of 10 sessions, and apparently the clients didn’t like what he had done. They went to his boss and complained, and because there’s a substantial amount of money involved, our boss catered to their complaint. So, all of that sucked.

But it gets worse, and for me in particular. The client group wanted a change, so our acting boss took my friend out, and put me in charge of the project. It’s just about the worst thing that can happen in the workplace.

I’m more or less on the side of my friend on this one: what he provided them was actually what they needed. The only problem was that they didn’t know that, and because of that, said they wanted something different. So here I am now having to take it over. What a shitty deal. I sit next to that guy, and he’s my friend. It’s been awkward already and will only continue to be.

Aside from that, everything is OK. Training is going OK, though I drank alot on jam night, which I guess was only the day before yesterday but it feels so long ago already because of how jammed my days have been.

Sometimes you go home from a really long day, or long couple of days, and you think about whether it’s better to be alone, or with someone. I always tend to choose to be alone. Sometimes I wish I wasn’t the way that I am, and I can’t explain either what “way” that is, or why I sometimes wish I were different.

But I have moments when I realize that something probably isn’t right, overall, and though everything is my control, I’m not sure what to do with myself, my motivations or my urges. I just focus on something else and before I know it, it’s time to start a new day.

I wore a suit today with a tie, if you can believe that shit.

Going to the woods this weekend, back up in NH. I’ll see some friends first, back in my old hometown, a small rural place with one store and unlimited trees and memories. I know exactly where I’m going to go after that. There’s this one tree, way out there off a narrow game trail, and every fall it’s the only one that turns completely golden instead of red. It’s huge and old and special. I saw it for the first time with my dad when I was maybe 9 or 10. I went back to it a few times in my teenage years. The first was after my dad died. The second was before I left for boarding school. The third was when I left for college. I didn’t go back there at all during my college years, but I did before I left for Force. This will be my first time back there since then. I’m not entirely sure why now. For some reason I was just thinking about it lately. Thinking about my dad, the woods and that tree.

I left at a pretty early age and never really went back in a homecoming sort of way. Even while growing up there, I was never really in a place called home. I was more off in the woods, out in the sticks, trying to make sense of things. My best friend growing up was pretty similar. I’d spend weekends at his house, which was tiny and even further out in the woods than mine. His town didn’t even have a single store, but it did have a post office, and an art center. We used to break into the art center and play with clay sometimes. We only learned we could do that because for no reason we used to spend a lot of time on the roof of that place, just sort of hanging out. One time we went in there and had cigars. That was awful, but we both pretended it was relaxing and enjoyable. I miss the woods all the time. Want to see where I’m talking about? I’m from here, roughly.

Anyway, working on a document, big cup of coffee next to me in my empty office, broadway humming in from the window, as always. Have a great humpers.