The Duff can't seem to sleep tonight. It always happens when he has something on the next day and he tries to go to bed early.
Almost immediately he knows he's screwed. His mind's eye wanders right back to the laptop and the programme he left playing in the background screams at him in acute clarity. It is almost hi def but in pounding sound waves.
He gives up and picks up his phone. The latest toy. Still paying for it. Heh. He surfs around, checking out the latest scores, checks what his so-called friends are up to, while at the back of his mind he knows what each and every real friend of his is doing.
He thinks then that it would be kind of fun to find something to do. Something to let loose any residual energy he has left from the paltry trials and tribulations of the day. And he remembers that he has this special place where he used to "frequent". A wall where he could shout and wail and come back months later to read the spittle on the paint, or relisten to the fading echoes of an earlier, younger and inescapable naive whimper.
And scream at said wall through new medium too. The novelty may actually last perhaps a tad bit longer. In that respect he has it similarly to don draper. The newness of things. A freshness to proceedings. An unboringness.
The sad truth that is. A relentless and never-ending pursuit of the unmundane. Forever doomed. The perpetual beta indeed.
Monday, November 01, 2010
Thursday, January 07, 2010
Unending Blur-icity
So it was finally the Duff's turn at the controls of the real aircraft. After many hours of practice in the simulators, it was his chance to fly some sectors on the old but still powerful Learjet 45. Sure some things were wonky like the airconditioning and anti-ice, but the engines buckled in and pushed everyone into their seats at the appropriate times. The Duff found himself enjoying the speed, the clouds and the idle banter with the instructor beside him, sharing war stories of life on the line.
The downside was the preparation required going into every flight. He had to wake up at 3.30, set off for the school at 4.30, and prepare the flight plans, fuel, weight and balances, weather and all by 6.00. It was a massive undertaking that took some practice but the flight the next day was much smoother. He also had to prepare and familiarise himself with the routes, approaches and aerodromes along the way. Quite a bit for a lazy bugger like him.
Therefore, it meant late nights prior to the flights, many short naps and practically non-existent deep sleeps in the wee hours of the morning. The stupor he was in caused him to hit his head twice in two days on the edges found on the ceiling of the cabin. Massive bumps that hurt to the touch reminded him of his clumsy childhood and each time he rubbed his scalp, he smiled to himself like a silly old fool.
What was to happen on the subsequent evening took the cake though. He had fallen asleep after a quick snack of instant noodles after the second flight, all the weariness of the preceding days bearing down upon him like an avalanche of sledgehammers. When he awoke, he first saw the faint light peering through his garage room door. He panicked at first, and grabbed for his mobile phone to check the time. The first impression was that it was dawn. He had a simulator session the next morning at 6 as well. "Damn!" He said to himself, when he saw that it was already 6.07. He slept through the night! The fatigue was getting to him. The sense of dread and a rush of adrenaline washed over him as the dashed for his uniform. "Double Damn!" The uniform wasn't ironed yet, and he grabbed the old uniform he had just worn on the second flight, stinking of hours-old perspiration. He guessed that it would fit his own body odour as he hadn't bathed since the flight anyways. The sounds in the kitchen must be made by his buddy. Got to hurry now! His hair was still immaculately in place, held in by the industrial strength hair wax that is the Duff's staple. At least that was one thing going for him.
In the midst of buttoning his shirt, afixing his wings and zipping up his trousers, he stops suddenly as awareness and a greater sense of calm broke through the clouds. "Triple Damn! It was 6pm, not 6am!" Phew. Another crisis averted, albeit one created wholly in his head. He had thought he was done for, as his career was one hellbent on punctuality amongst many other qualities. Missing a session would be the death knell.
He laughed, deep and loud. Those 2 bumps must have caused some short circuits in his head. He emerged from the garage, hoping the sounds of his scampering around hadn't been noticed by his housemates. A quick peek out proved that to be the case, and his recovers nicely to visit the bathroom and helped out in the kitchen to make DINNER.
Such is life. Ups and Downs and All Arounds. One really has to laugh at oneself sometimes.
The downside was the preparation required going into every flight. He had to wake up at 3.30, set off for the school at 4.30, and prepare the flight plans, fuel, weight and balances, weather and all by 6.00. It was a massive undertaking that took some practice but the flight the next day was much smoother. He also had to prepare and familiarise himself with the routes, approaches and aerodromes along the way. Quite a bit for a lazy bugger like him.
Therefore, it meant late nights prior to the flights, many short naps and practically non-existent deep sleeps in the wee hours of the morning. The stupor he was in caused him to hit his head twice in two days on the edges found on the ceiling of the cabin. Massive bumps that hurt to the touch reminded him of his clumsy childhood and each time he rubbed his scalp, he smiled to himself like a silly old fool.
What was to happen on the subsequent evening took the cake though. He had fallen asleep after a quick snack of instant noodles after the second flight, all the weariness of the preceding days bearing down upon him like an avalanche of sledgehammers. When he awoke, he first saw the faint light peering through his garage room door. He panicked at first, and grabbed for his mobile phone to check the time. The first impression was that it was dawn. He had a simulator session the next morning at 6 as well. "Damn!" He said to himself, when he saw that it was already 6.07. He slept through the night! The fatigue was getting to him. The sense of dread and a rush of adrenaline washed over him as the dashed for his uniform. "Double Damn!" The uniform wasn't ironed yet, and he grabbed the old uniform he had just worn on the second flight, stinking of hours-old perspiration. He guessed that it would fit his own body odour as he hadn't bathed since the flight anyways. The sounds in the kitchen must be made by his buddy. Got to hurry now! His hair was still immaculately in place, held in by the industrial strength hair wax that is the Duff's staple. At least that was one thing going for him.
In the midst of buttoning his shirt, afixing his wings and zipping up his trousers, he stops suddenly as awareness and a greater sense of calm broke through the clouds. "Triple Damn! It was 6pm, not 6am!" Phew. Another crisis averted, albeit one created wholly in his head. He had thought he was done for, as his career was one hellbent on punctuality amongst many other qualities. Missing a session would be the death knell.
He laughed, deep and loud. Those 2 bumps must have caused some short circuits in his head. He emerged from the garage, hoping the sounds of his scampering around hadn't been noticed by his housemates. A quick peek out proved that to be the case, and his recovers nicely to visit the bathroom and helped out in the kitchen to make DINNER.
Such is life. Ups and Downs and All Arounds. One really has to laugh at oneself sometimes.
Saturday, January 02, 2010
2010
The New Year.
A certain nice ring to it, isn't there? 2010. Rolls off the tongue, glides into the ears, skims off your skin and tears into your consciousness. It smells of spring, of fresh starts and new cycles. So much to work towards, so much to begin on, so many lists to come up with and to the plans to finish them. So many open doors, so much promise.
The Duff had always enjoyed the start of new years. Some were held with dread that soon passed once familiar faces were once again reacquainted with in class. Some were otherwise eagerly anticipated as the year would usually contain some special dates, and half written chapters that would be closed with the surest certainty of the next sunrise.
The coming year though is one of those that lay ahead with an echoing emptiness waiting to once again be filled by memories filtered through his experience. Tabula Rasa. Once again, targets and lists. Once again, a breaking down of limitations, and fulfillments of various endeavours. Surely a dead end to some, unavoidably dangling threads would be left, but these are NOT to stop him from beginning them, lest the wallet threatens to disavow his freedom and quiet desires.
He is still in Brisbane. Maroochydore to be exact. An hour's worth of driving from Brisbane proper. A quiet hamlet, full of retirees and ignorant Aussies (always shouting japanese at him while driving by). Friendly and helpful ones too, to be fair (invited to x'mas party, but politely declined). Beautiful beaches (gold coast, surfer's paradise, noosa, mooloolaba and mudjimba), sea turtles (he saw one at night at the beach, awesome!), birds (they are everywhere), lizards (them too!), foxes (he saw one crossing a highway late at night) and frogs (after a storm, they were abundantly squashed on many a road). Theme parks (Dreamworld, Sea World, Movieworld, Wet n' Wild) and thrill rides (Lethal Weapon, Superman, Giant Drop, etc.), dolphins (always deviously smiling) and penguins (still wearing a tux in the hot weather). Bikinis (he likes) and bodyboards (he so wanted to buy), tanned curves (he likey more!) and washboards (he envies). Business jets (flying one) and summer holiday-makers (surrounded by them), tough simulator instructors (love/hate relationships) and dusty garages (living out of one). Heat waves and thunderstorms (every other day), 3D movie (AVATAR kicks ass!!!) and cooking (helping out whenever he can).
And that's his life these past 2 months. He can't wait to get back home, to once again start another chapter. To fill it with the pitfalls and perils, the trials and tribulations, the triumphs and the achievements that only hard living can bring.
Own it. Do it. Follow your bliss. Ain't that The Truth?
A certain nice ring to it, isn't there? 2010. Rolls off the tongue, glides into the ears, skims off your skin and tears into your consciousness. It smells of spring, of fresh starts and new cycles. So much to work towards, so much to begin on, so many lists to come up with and to the plans to finish them. So many open doors, so much promise.
The Duff had always enjoyed the start of new years. Some were held with dread that soon passed once familiar faces were once again reacquainted with in class. Some were otherwise eagerly anticipated as the year would usually contain some special dates, and half written chapters that would be closed with the surest certainty of the next sunrise.
The coming year though is one of those that lay ahead with an echoing emptiness waiting to once again be filled by memories filtered through his experience. Tabula Rasa. Once again, targets and lists. Once again, a breaking down of limitations, and fulfillments of various endeavours. Surely a dead end to some, unavoidably dangling threads would be left, but these are NOT to stop him from beginning them, lest the wallet threatens to disavow his freedom and quiet desires.
He is still in Brisbane. Maroochydore to be exact. An hour's worth of driving from Brisbane proper. A quiet hamlet, full of retirees and ignorant Aussies (always shouting japanese at him while driving by). Friendly and helpful ones too, to be fair (invited to x'mas party, but politely declined). Beautiful beaches (gold coast, surfer's paradise, noosa, mooloolaba and mudjimba), sea turtles (he saw one at night at the beach, awesome!), birds (they are everywhere), lizards (them too!), foxes (he saw one crossing a highway late at night) and frogs (after a storm, they were abundantly squashed on many a road). Theme parks (Dreamworld, Sea World, Movieworld, Wet n' Wild) and thrill rides (Lethal Weapon, Superman, Giant Drop, etc.), dolphins (always deviously smiling) and penguins (still wearing a tux in the hot weather). Bikinis (he likes) and bodyboards (he so wanted to buy), tanned curves (he likey more!) and washboards (he envies). Business jets (flying one) and summer holiday-makers (surrounded by them), tough simulator instructors (love/hate relationships) and dusty garages (living out of one). Heat waves and thunderstorms (every other day), 3D movie (AVATAR kicks ass!!!) and cooking (helping out whenever he can).
And that's his life these past 2 months. He can't wait to get back home, to once again start another chapter. To fill it with the pitfalls and perils, the trials and tribulations, the triumphs and the achievements that only hard living can bring.
Own it. Do it. Follow your bliss. Ain't that The Truth?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)