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I spent more time than usual downtown this week. I can’t recall how I managed to do that commute for so long. It seems further each time I drive… like there is some sort of geographic expansion going on between trips. My time there was relatively productive, so I don’t mind the to and fro. Every day seems fuzzy to me outside of the temporal instant that is happening right now (in any given now). If you were on the open ocean, where the horizon fades into the curvature of Earth, and there was no reference of land or star… you were just there… you would find me. Finding empty purpose to spend the currency of time for the sake of having something to do besides eat, sleep, and defecate for the duration of your finite number of breaths on this planet seems so counterproductive… almost indistinguishable from doing nothing at all. You would never miss the taste of a succulent dish if you have only known stale bread. I had direction and goals. I knew the deepest love and was building a life as part of something bigger than myself. I had passion in life and was stronger because of it. I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. Waiting to die sounds so morbid and is, finally, inaccurate since I am apathetic toward either outcome. I had some lists drawn up in the ‘ole noggin for this year. Step 1, I suppose, was the create of the list itself. I’ve not gone much further. I acquired my Class II pilot’s medical certificate, but never filed for VA benefits to continue training. I started guitar lessons again, but found work was conflicting more often than not to continue. I started going back to the gym and was making terrific progress and then fell off the wagon subsequent to a few back to back out of town trips that sabotaged my schedule and diet. I cleaned up my SPAM problem and re-energize my blog publishing system only to rarely post. I have a stack of unopened Christmas cards from last Christmas on the dining room table I bought fro EL to keep the piles of unsent mail company. If it were not for my hatred of being late for anything, I would probably not pay my bills on time. Life is different… and barely life at all.

I spent a few minutes starting to pull the St. Augustine choking my loriapi from its midst, but realized it was going to take more time I had to invest at the moment, so I’m hoping to find dry enough weather to finish this weekend. I need to re-pot my plumeria this weekend as well. I am struggling with life, the universe, and everything at the moment… but maybe I’ll show my face around here more often soon.

ps. the little critter mugshot was just a camera whore perched upon a twig on my patio… it seemed an injustice to not go grab the camera for a snapshot

pps. happy birthday mom… I love you. I tried to call several times, but you retired folks must be out on some sort of adventure.