Thursday, November 29, 2012

Your eyes weren’t deceiving you. I was deceiving you. The “we’ll be back” messages, like the one published last Tuesday, are usually short, straightforward, and–most importantly–sacrosanct. They are pledges to you. I am abandoning you, they say, but I will un-abandon you on a predetermined date. Originally we were supposed to reconvene on Tuesday, but I changed the date to today on the sly. Although few likely noticed the deception, I’m wracked with shame, all the same.

Thanksgiving only partially explains my absence. The thing is, my normally streamlined schedule has been packed to the gills as of late with big people things. Just before this very blog post, in fact, I was reviewing my finances. For hours. I mean, fuck! Pretty soon, I’ll be turning in at, like, 8:30 PM–on a late night. It’s been crunch time at work, coupled with responsibilities outside the office. In the next few weeks, though, I’ll be on my best behavior, promise. I shall reclaim your good graces.

Writing has accompanied a lot of this recent industry, and output’s been shit-hot, if I may throw modesty out the window. Copywriting’s been punchy, for one thing, and a formal attestation almost made its subject weep. “I literally had to fight back tears,” she said, and I can think of no higher compliment, as far as attestations go. But I also became keenly aware of my limits. I thought my capacity to manufacture sentences was an inexhaustible well. No! No. Turns out I’m exactly like everyone else. I finally understood why art designers construct mood boards. It’s like tinder for your creative kindling. My mood board happens to be running around futuristic virtual worlds on Xbox and shooting aliens and people in the face with exotic weaponry–speaking of which.