Robot Dance

This semester has been eye-opening. I have a light load of classes at a junior college, and have been working 40 hours a week at the ol' Starbucks. I've been offered another job at Badass Coffee Co., but really don't feel like leaving my coworkers. That, and I don't intend on having that business name on my resume. I've felt like an automated coffee bot lately too, like in Austin Powers but less hot chicks and more Dr. Evil's. Writing has gone missing in my past couple months of life, but I'm beginning to feel like picking up the pen again would do me vast amounts of good. Well, typing's close enough to scratching down thoughts on paper. I normally reserve pen-writing for silly amateur poetry and crappy sketches, yet of late I'm trying to incorporate it into my outlines for book ideas too. Speaking of books, I've been enjoying Kurt Vonnegut lately, as I delved into his short stories and Galapagos. Galapagos was trash, but maybe 80 percent of his short stories are genius. The other 20 is decent. Slaughterhouse Five has been sitting in my books-to-read pile for a couple weeks, and I feel that it's about time to give it some attention. Another reason I love my coworkers: they recommend amazing books all the time. Rebekah is a creative writing/literature major that has her master's and Matthew Mayhem knows his way around books better than most professors of the subject. Apart from work and school, I feel like I continually fall into the same drab pattern of bourgeois homelife. The joie de vive has just been sucked out of me. At work I feel like a coffeebot, and at home I feel like the Jetsons' robomaid. I have been getting decent grades and money, but perhaps at the cost of my creativity. I do believe the feeling has something to do with a lack of exercise and good new music. Music makes the day for me sometimes; although Usher, Ludacris and Linkin Park released some decent stuff, I just haven't been feeling the love from radio or torrents lately. I got so bored with autotuned junk that I jumped back into the flow of some old favorites. You'd think that ol' roboRob would love autotune due to the monotonous existence that is my life, but I don't. I miss the days of good Weezer, Make Yourself/ Morning View Incubus, Red Hot Chili Peppers Californication type stuff, and (yes, better believe) Smash Mouth. DeLuna Fest is coming up, thank goodness for cheap tickets. Stone Temple Pilots and Bush will probably rock my face off. I know my nana's reading this so I'll stop with the music references, but in closing: I am tired of the last couple years' worth of radio hip-hop. It's a bit ironic that I'm continually checking the time as I write this, because in ten minutes I'm taking back off to work again. Eight hour shift today, yesterday, the day before, and the day before. I have Sunday off, but I've already scheduled myself full of stuff to do. Church, picnic, dinner with the parents, returning the jet-ski (that never worked) and studying every chance between things; it should be a nice day, but free time? Not so free.