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There’s a Renaissance of sorts happening in the music business right now by which music we’ve lost track of, or have ignored outright, due to the current ubiquity of pop music is crawling out from the primordial ooze and is being reborn as something new. New masters, new packaging and/or new formats are moving in to replace the gaping hole left by marginilized MP3 files and the impending death of CDs.
Somehow, at some point, without even realizing it, I’ve slipped into the “enjoy every sandwich” part of my life.
I’m tired. I’m really effin’ tired. It’s the “I’m so tired that I can’t even roll off my lover and rudely fall asleep beside her because I’ve already rudely fallen asleep on TOP of her tired.” [admit it, you’ve done this…at least ONCE.]
I started a new job in February. And it’s sapping the fiber of my very being. I’ve had jobs that have made me tired before. But they were office gigs where the exhaustion was mostly mental – from dealing with asshat employers and bigger asshatted customers. In my current job I work alone, but for the first time in 30 years of employment I’m 
actually working. Up at 4.30 AM and usually home by 5 or 6PM. Eight to nine hours of driving and walking. When I finally get home I eat dinner, stare blankly at photos of cute cats, idiotic diatribes about Monsanto, Rob Ford, hockey and Chemtrail conspiracy theorists on Facebook. It’s all I can do to keep Mr. Sandman at bay. By 9PM I’m done. I haven’t accomplished much except kiss the cat and pet the family good night.
Bullseye Records of Canada
Segarini: Don't Believe a Word I Say 