I have a physical job - the installation, sanding and finishing of hardwood floors. I spend 90% of my work day at a right angle, dragging around a 20 pound spinner tethered to a 50 ft. extension cord.
Most days I'll eat the pain and move on. Then there are "those" days when the physical pain meets joins the mental pain. I look at those days as if I'm a grizzly bear whose been shot - I'm crashing thru the forest - anything in my way gets destroyed.
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Here's the thing - it's not that the other guys can't do this job - it's just that they don't want to. All I ask for is a little help. It's days like these when my mood sets in. I get angry that no one helps with the spinning and I begin to hate what I'm doing.These two stages can last for hours. Then, all of the sudden, I begin muttering to myself and cursing all of humanity for the pain I suffer. As the morning wears on and I'm close to the end of spinning, I can start to see again, and I feel guilty for all the nasty evil things that I'd been thinking. Then I start to regret the long lost of bad career decisions that have left me in this crippled frame. Shame on me for all the bridge burnings. Shame on me for wasting the better part of my youth waiting instead of taking. After shouldering the weight of forever as long as possible, my knees buckle and I fall into the black pit of depression. Sometimes I'm here for days - weeks at a time. It is during these times when I've written most if not all of the songs for this album.
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I don't always see black - honestly, I like my days
gray - hold the sun, please.
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