Looks like it's going to be the PS3. I'm going to have to save two months' worth of pay to buy this stuff. That would be the roughly $600 PS3 and the $250 GHWT set I just secured with a seller; going to pick it up from him Tuesday or Wednesday evening.
$850...that's a hell of a lot of money coming out from a service unit NSF. And a small price to pay for what is going to be a rather bearable eternity of rockin' enjoyment. Wouldn't this have been a much smaller problem with Benedict's job? Then again, I wouldn't have anyone to play with considering the fact that I wouldn't have met all my friends in SAF Bands. Everyone does have his place...
'Money' has just become, yet again, one big word taking up two pages in my dictionary. It shrank to normal size a few months ago when I'd stopped spending. Well, spending so much, actually. Didn't hurt at the time. I guess it's just the slight tinge of contentment in knowing later that those seemingly insignificant amounts (while considering what they were used for, of course) are being saved now while being siphoned away regularly at that time. Really. I didn't mind.
It also looks like the Italy trip scheduled for July's been canceled. To whom I might have gloated about it to in the past, you now have carte blanche to rub it in my face. No worries. Overseas trips...logistical nightmares for percussionists, but always so fulfilling.
I've been thinking about something for the past few days. Well, it just came up, actually. Not one of those things which would consume all my concentration and send me into a distant stupor.
"Why be a sergeant or regular serviceman when you could be an officer?"
"Oh yes, that's right! Why do artisans, teachers, builders and cleaners exist when we could all be rocket scientists? I can't believe I'd missed that. How embarrassing."
"..."
Funny how I can read Eclipse without any difficulty in the Dragon Hall with drums banging, tubas honking and mallets scurrying haphazardly across the marimba, but I'm too restless to read it in the solitude of my own home.
$850...that's a hell of a lot of money coming out from a service unit NSF. And a small price to pay for what is going to be a rather bearable eternity of rockin' enjoyment. Wouldn't this have been a much smaller problem with Benedict's job? Then again, I wouldn't have anyone to play with considering the fact that I wouldn't have met all my friends in SAF Bands. Everyone does have his place...
'Money' has just become, yet again, one big word taking up two pages in my dictionary. It shrank to normal size a few months ago when I'd stopped spending. Well, spending so much, actually. Didn't hurt at the time. I guess it's just the slight tinge of contentment in knowing later that those seemingly insignificant amounts (while considering what they were used for, of course) are being saved now while being siphoned away regularly at that time. Really. I didn't mind.
It also looks like the Italy trip scheduled for July's been canceled. To whom I might have gloated about it to in the past, you now have carte blanche to rub it in my face. No worries. Overseas trips...logistical nightmares for percussionists, but always so fulfilling.
I've been thinking about something for the past few days. Well, it just came up, actually. Not one of those things which would consume all my concentration and send me into a distant stupor.
"Why be a sergeant or regular serviceman when you could be an officer?"
"Oh yes, that's right! Why do artisans, teachers, builders and cleaners exist when we could all be rocket scientists? I can't believe I'd missed that. How embarrassing."
"..."
Funny how I can read Eclipse without any difficulty in the Dragon Hall with drums banging, tubas honking and mallets scurrying haphazardly across the marimba, but I'm too restless to read it in the solitude of my own home.
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