Notes From The Record Room: A Quick Inhale Following a Two-Month Stint at the Home Office (and COVID Shots)…

To whom it may interest,

Apologies for the absence. If you're reading this, I'm coming off of a series of 60-70 hour work weeks which haven't left much time for things like making dinner, washing dishes, being a present father and husband, or writing about music. This blog is always in the back of my mind, sort of whimpering pitifully in that "we don't talk anymore" manner of pleading. And when I do have those moments when I want to type a few words, run through my email and see what's new, dig for new sounds that might either brighten my hour or pique what little interest I may be able to conjure after a 14- or 16-hour work day, I'm too drained to come up with anything worth typing and my patience is worn too thinly to keep trying. All I can do is sit and maybe staring zombie-like into my phone while I await paralyzing exhaustion to envelope me so I can sleep. 

Plus, I'm still working from home. As convenient as it's been to not have a commute thanks to the pandemic, the boundary between work and life has blurred to an almost-invisible degree. Home and work happen in the same place, so I'm always on the clock.

Does this sound bleak? I realize that our current economic and societal climate right now sort of dictates that one should be happy to be employed. And I am. To be honest, I do enjoy my job. I'm good at it. I work with and manage people that I genuinely enjoy speaking to and whose diligence I can rely upon without hesitation. I do not micromanage and I've never had to. This is an enviable position to be in from the perspective of so many working (or learning to in my case) in management. 

That said, as American capitalism enables a feeling of ineptitude if one cannot hold ones own in the face of ever-changing and continually daunting working conditions, I'm often overwhelmed. It's not like work slows down and it's not like one ever catches up and the things outside of work, the more important things, suffer as a result. Even my dreams are sometimes tied to work.

Anyway, without trying to come across as if plucking a violin, this is basically an explanation as to why I've been silent. I'm hoping to change this soon. In the meantime, if you're still reading this, thank you for hanging in there. 

Hope you're having a good week. 

Sincerely,
Letters From A Tapehead


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