Burning Man preparations are kicking my ass. I'm way too busy right now. First I traveled for nine months only to go straight to a summer camp to work for six weeks. Then I went straight from there to Clear Lake to spend some time with Adam and Boris and Adam's family. My time at the lake was divided between trying to have fun with friends and actually working—phone calls, emails, photography stuff, sending out CDs, errands. And from there I returned to the Bay Area with only three days to prepare myself for Burning Man and somehow make some money.
Thank Allah for buttons! I'm pounding out some button jobs while trying to make sure I have everything I need to survive in the harsh Black Rock Desert for ten days. The problem is that I can't find any of my stuff. It's all in my storage space.
Now, I imagine my storage space won't be a barrel of fun. I haven't been to it since the day I put my things in it and locked it up. (Who knows if it's still even there?) But, the last time I was there I remembered it looking like some child–prodigy Tetris champion had managed to jam an entire house full of stuff into one room in some sort of sick joke.
So, yes, everything fit. All my things are there. But, getting to anything deeper than the first layer of boxes will require major reverse–Tetris excavation, only with box lifting in the San Jose summer heat and copious sweating and self–injury.
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