Busy, Busy, Business Time

i had thought, initially, moving to a new apartment would be amazing because it would-- for once-- not be happening on my birthday.

but that was before i had really put together what working 2-11pm friday through monday really means about moving.

i've been in a panic.

i work at work and i work at home and i don't feel like either are going anywhere with any particular speed.

i calm down when i smoke in front of my office or in front of my apartment. i smoke and i watch people.

i watch other people who are stressed out, having a cigarette, trying to pretend it's all alright.

there is something so very bittersweet about seeing a grey-haired businessman chain-smoke cigarettes while talking on his cell phone, referring to his completed paperwork as, "ready to rock n' roll!"

and here it is for me:

• i'm sick. (shouldn't be smoking)
• i'm trying to move. (my last day in my current apartment is june 1 and i've still got nothing new secured)
• i am not ready to rock n' roll. (by any means)