I have quite apparently opted to be as lazy as possible today. I just woke up from a nap I took after working a box office shift for the Writers Festival this morning, my last shift of the week. All in all I'd call it a pretty fun experience, though one has to take serving poets in stride when they run out of hot water for tea. Austin Clarke was one of the best readers I've ever seen in terms of delivery.

ARC celebrated their 30th anniversary. I think this week had a "turning thirty" theme to it. I had dinner out with Jim and others (including Chris and Kathryn's new baby Eric) for his 30th birthday, so I've been thinking about it a bit more than usual lately. I've reached the point where I'm okay with turning 30, thankfully, and I haven't even turned 29 yet. All I care about when it comes to aging these days is knowing that I'm still capable of growth, that growing doesn't just stop. I think I spent a lot of my 20's subconsciously worried that that would be the case. Thankfully, I've grown out of it.

I talked with Glenn Nuotio quite a bit last night, who graciously let me know about a job opportunity. On my way home I wondered why when anyone asks me what I'm doing, I tell them I'm looking for a job while never mentioning that I'm also writing stories and music and trying to improve at those things. When I tell people that I'm after a government job, I sometimes get a reaction along the lines of "Really? Why?" I don't know why, really. Because the money is good, and because I live by myself paying rent and bills, and because I have a debt. Mostly, though, I suppose it's because I don't know what I want to do, nor how to go about doing it effectively.

I write stories and music. Today I started a new short story to procure another rejection letter. Yesterday I finished a cover of "Sleep Apnoea" by Buck 65, which you can listen to here: It's what I do.

I took a French reading/writing comprehension test yesterday morning and ended up guessing at quite a few. I don't imagine I'll make it too far into the oral test on Monday before the administrator gives up on me. At least I'll have a more official understanding of where my French skills are at. Dave said that French training is probably available through the Senate, with classes starting in January, so I might look into that.

I worked the bar for the Writers Festival last night during the open mic, talks on Afghanistan and talks from journalists correspondents working in China and Africa, including Patrick Brown, who was a very engaging speaker. I worked the box office for another talk of his this afternoon, so my duties with the Writers Festival are half over.

I'm feeling tired and a little directionless today. I need an afternoon to veg out, but I have too much to do.

Here's an interesting article from the Citizen about how desperately Canada is going to need profs over the next decade: Universities face double threat to top talent.

Looks like I'll be bartending for three evenings at the Writers Festival. Do they even charge for drinks? Tip well, I'm unemployed. Should be fun getting lit folks tipsy.

I went out with some of the gang last night to the dirty Oak. Steve played a solo acoustic set and had a guy join him on a bongo for a few songs. Afterward a few of us straggled over to Matt's and I got quite high. In a rare occurrence I turned down a trip to the diner, it being after 3 in the morning, and my sleep schedule being what it is, and my cashflow being what it is. Plus I missed my lady.

It's starting to get chilly in the Flatcave. Eventually I'll have to figure out how to use the rads. This is my favorite time of year weather-wise. Pleasant during the day and chilly at night. I can roam freely in a hoodie and feel comfortable. Soon enough I'll be strapping the iPod on and kicking up leaves.

I hate my sleep schedule. I cannot for the life of me fall asleep before 3 o'clock in the morning, and then I routinely sleep until at least noon. If I were back on nights, it would be fine, but as it stands I feel like I'm on a completely different schedule from the rest of the world. I need a job, something, to return to a semblance of normalcy. Andrea is in bed by 11. That's four additional hours I have to amuse myself. If I'm at her place, I can't write. I lie in bed trying to calm the flow of ideas, because I want to be beside her. I need to start forcing myself up early and going to bed at a reasonable time. At least until work at the Senate resumes.

Tonight I'm going to a volunteers meeting for the Writers Festival. For one reason or another I have never attended a single Writers Festival event. Since I'm feeling more like a writer lately than ever before, it's probably about time I started lending a hand in the community again.