It is forty-five minutes until my time is no longer loggable as community-helping volinternshippery. This is now time I use selfishly, having data-entered, overseen zine-masters productions and made my productivity-proposals for the next week.
right now is all drinking the free coffee, inflicting my personal playlist on Rainey and Kamili and the guys who are at the table drawing their comics. Print out some poems for the writers-group that is actually-going-to-happen.
last night I and Ryan and Bronwyn and Rainey and Lars-for-a-little-while went to Magma Feset '10's Queercore show for the music of Cold Lake and Council of Lions and the poetry of Elissa Ball and then there were other bands and I liked them alright but I was glad to be at a show in a Bike Shop where everyone was happy and dancing and paid attention to the Spoken Word, even when it came at the end of a long night with lots of Rainier.
Days are spinning by fast. That's fine. I wouldn't say I'm "keeping on top of it" but I'm getting better at not feeling like I've been hit by a train, either physically, 'motionly or just in the "wait-what?" sort of way.
this could also be the unseasonably good weather or the coffee or the fact that one of my duties in life involves hanging out with folks who make paper robots and comic books.