I must say.
Being your own boss is quite a high. Granted. My boss hasn’t paid me shit and the health plan sucks.
But who else would let me bust a nut to Tiesto all day while sitting here typing in my underpants.
I must say.
Being your own boss is quite satisfying. Deadlines have suddenly acquired much more meaning. And successes are suddenly much more rewarding. The only problem?
No one to hug.
Especially when you just want to celebrate some progress, a milestone, or a particularly clever passage of writing you just completed.
So… no one to hug.
And to hug you need people. And in my current arrangement, I see far less of them. In fact I was so shocked the other day when I saw someone in my house I nearly lost it, especially when I realised they had bigger guns than I did, plus that bastard didn’t want to hug. Ass. He just kept flexing, so I immediately smashed some pre-workout and blasted out the door for the gym.
It was only about the time the pre-workout kicked in (caffeine x 100) that I realised my error. Damn mirrors.
So. Cabin fever, and coffee. Stephen King did mountains of coke; I got my Nespresso and enough caffeine in my system to kill a horse.
But as for coffee, people and hugs. You think they would go together.
A bunch of happy people consuming a drug in a small area. Like a festival or if you were to put fifty children with Down’s syndrome in a room, there is going to be a lot of hugging.
But they don’t. Coffee is the wanker drug, it’s dens frequented by people who don’t sleep enough or want to be thought of as writers, sitting there with their Mac laptops and Bondi Hipster nasty smell.
Now I’m not one for writing in coffee shops, although I do need a change of scenery occasionally, and yes I have a Mac laptop.
In fact I even have MacBook Pro Retina.
And everyone agrees with me that I am the most creative person they know. My MacBook Pro allows me to express my creativity by letting everyone know that I own a MacBook Pro. People sometimes ask “Is that a MacBook Pro?” to which I reply, “Yes it is, because I am creative”.
But a coffee shop is the wrong place to look for hugs or validation. Like marrying a pornstar, you’re just setting yourself up for disappointment.
But even if you were to try.
Hugging a stranger is fraught with danger. As is marrying a pornstar, you get home from work “So how was your day honey?” you ask.
“Oh terrible, I got absolutely smashed,” they reply.
So coffee shops and strangers.
I don’t thing they would appreciate a random hug (strangers, not pornstars).
In fact, I’m pretty sure there would have to be some kind of screening progress before I chose whom to hug, which removes the whole spontaneity. Plus I might end up in handcuffs (not the good kind), or with a face full of pepper (the bad kind), in a holding cell (and no it’s not a place to hold hands), or I could end up on the wrong end of 50 000 volts (don’t tase me bro).
So hugs are hard. Human interaction is at a low, and I find I tend to start talking to myself.
Shut up Duncan.
But as for hugs.
I don’t look like I have Down Syndrome so I couldn’t get away with being a hugger, which would pretty much make it assault. Unless I was a footy player, then it’s ok too. Maybe throw in a punch or two just to complete the deal.
Foooooooty. Cronk smash good.
The other option is the gym; pretty much that and the pool are they only human interaction I have during the day.
Which at the gym involves no conversation (grunts only – Cronk lift good, pick up heavy thing, put down heavy thing). So no conversation, just pure admiration (they be mirrin), that and dear God what are you doing?? That’s not how you do that! No you tard! Go home!
So super too friendly awkward glances, and occasionally being hit on in the change rooms is the only time that Duncan gets spoken to. Hey hey hey.
Plus it’s Newtown Fitness First, and with Mardi Gras approaching it’s like someone let off a glitter bomb and advertised a foam party everyday, all day.
Anyway. Post down. Progress!
Back to writing, 40% to target on draft v2.0. Progress x 2!
Time for a hug!