back to the grind.

damn.

so i let my fellow cubicle chumps know i was gonna be working from home because i wasnt ready to fully strap myself back into the saddle and i'll be god damned if a buncha fools wasnt all up on a niggas tip by 11am.

chump #1: [a certain rapper] needs more units in the street, we need to devise a plan on which markets his audience is strongest in.
me: yeah well, his last records tanked. no one cares about him without [former Dj/producer]. his strongest markets are new york and LA. then we can work around his tour and the marketing we are doing. whats his tour looking like?
chump#1: um... well, it hasnt really been booked. we think hes going to tour europe first.
me: well, thats a problem now isnt it.


chump #2: [obscure techno label] wants to put [obscure techno dj's] album on sale nationally at [national retail chain]. can we do this?
me: no.

chump #3: nothing has really been done while you have been gone. so i need you to call all these people and set up these promo campaigns. oh yeah, your desk looks like armaggedon.
me: sigh.

chump #4: so you gonna be able to play this weekend? we got the whole night and start spinning at 8.
me: well, i dont know.. i cant carry my flightcase yet. and you know..
chump #4: thats cool, ill get someone to carry your records. you can go on at 11 or 12. play whatever you want.
me: well, i havent hit the decks in a few weeks, and having been playing hip hop, acid, and electro with a bit of soul and house. is that cool? and i dont know how long i can play.. you know.. how long do i have?
chump #4: yeah dude. play whatever. two hours.
me: um... ok.

shit. monday arrived like an old friend bursting through the door unannounced. high on cocaine and ready to party and you arent sure if youre prepared to get down like that but you decide -fuck it, and do a line anyway.

and to top it off brooklyn is in flames. its like, 90 degrees in my apt.