It's Friday and umm...yeah, did I mention that it's Friday?

[illusionofjoy]

Since I work the night shift, weekends are a bit different for me. I usually sleep from noon to 8:00PM during the weekdays. After I wake up, I walk to the station, hop on a trolley and head straight downtown, my body fueled only by two hastily consumed cups of coffee (last night it was actually Pepsi, and let me tell you, it's just not the same). I work for eight hours with a half-hour lunch break, and then return home. I am usually in my place of residence from 6:40 to around 8:30 in the morning, when I hop on the trolley again to go to the library, where I produce these lovely journal entries, among other things.

This schedule has actually worked out quite nicely for me, as not only does it allow for regular visits to the library, but also to get any business done that needs doing (i.e.: grocery shopping, banking, etc.). The problem always comes on the weekends however that while I want to stay out late, for me, the lateness of, say, 3:00AM, isn't really all that far into my "day" and most of my friends don't want to go on much past that time, as they've been awake for several hours longer than I have.

For me, this ends up becoming a battle of "the sleep schedule I use because of when I work" versus "the life schedule of everyone and everything else that bears some import to me." In an attempt to actually see my friends, I will actually stay up all day on Fridays from the day prior when I awoke at 8:00PM. With enough coffee, I can stave off passing out from exhaustion until around 3:00AM, which is when everyone else is slowly nodding off anyhow. By Saturday, I am waking up by noon, nice and fresh to go playing that evening. True, this method increases my sleep debt and slightly buggers me up when I have to go to work Sunday evening, but I'd rather suffer the ill effects of poking my diseased sleeping habits with a stick than lose contact with people that I care about.

Speaking of Saturday, in the evenings, my activity of choice is to go to Ceremony. I am one of the faithful who attempts to attend every week, doggedly adhering to the belief that Goth has yet to die, but is only sleeping (albeit, a very deep sleep). More often than not, because Pittsburgh's mass transit stops running at 1:00AM, I can usually bum a ride from some kind soul out of necessity. Else, I just suck it up and deal with the fact that I have to egress from the club at midnight like a dark, testosterone-enhanced Cinderella.

This Saturday, it would seem that the cards are stacked against me for being in attendance. A friend of mine, for whom working with hair is an art form, is returning mine to its unnatural colour early that evening. Since she is unable to do this before getting off from work, and since she works until fairly late in the early evening, the likelihood of me getting to the club in time before I would be soon forced to run for the bus would be fairly slim. I am an individual who likes to get as much music as he can for his money.

As for staying past the mass transit blackout period: that too is out of the question. When I mentioned "bumming rides," what I really meant is that I usually ask a friend in advance. Not only do I like getting the most music that I can for my money, but I also like the reasonable assurance that I won't end up stranded in the middle of the night in a part of Pittsburgh that is over six miles from where I live. It would seem that this week, however, all of my peers who have access to motor vehicles are either out of town, too broke to go out or having car troubles. Ergo, no rides for the licensed non-driver that I am.

So, here I am faced with a quandary: do I hang out with my friend after she's finished dying my hair, most likely feeling mopey and acting like a prick because I can't go out? Should I go home after getting my hair dyed, so I don't expose any innocent bystanders to my mopey prickiness? Should I go anyhow, stay as long as I can and leave at midnight anyhow, no matter how late I arrive? Should I go and stay past midnight in the hopes that I can woo some attractive darkling of the feminine persuasion who happens to own a car to come back to my apartment with me (actually, this sounds like a challenge that I'd like to...umm...never mind...)? Final options: should I go, stay late and call a cab to get home, thus paying outrageous fees to a driver who likely learned English as a second language or, call a cab to drive me home and then stab the driver in the head once I get to Mt. Lebanon for trying to price-gouge me by taking the long way there?

I still have about a day to decide what I'm going to do. If anything, there is always next week, even though my favourite DJ is spinning this week, which means that there is a great likeliness that Diamanda Galas would be played (I wants to see spooky kids writhe in agony! I do! I do! I do!). At the moment, I feel wishy-washy about something I really shouldn't feel that way about. I never claimed to not be eccentric.

Maybe I should sleep on it.

Comments

[illusion-of-joy.livejournal.com]

Did your friend happen to be named Morissey? He once claimed to hate Joy Division, saying that their music needed some colour added to their greyness (and that he would be the one to do it).

Emo - bah! Don't even get me started...