pg16: The man comes around

Hush.

I can't believe I don't hve "Hurt" by Johnny Cash on my playlist.

I've had my good humour almsot ruined a few times in the last 48 hours, but I remain resolute. I'm getting some good work done. I'm working toward being successful. I'm happy with myself. Do we really need any more?

Last night was a clusterfuck that I would've gotten depressed about had I sat down to write a blog, but there was a novel to write. And that cheered me up. It should have been a relatively simple matter, submitting my homework on WebCT, the group project, Adobe PDF, etc etc, but I wound up staying at school an hour later than I'd intended, hungry and frustrated, eager to leave. As I mentally transport myself back to that moment I can feel the anguish, but thankfully, it passed.

I think that's a biblical quote, "this too, shall pass." All things, as they say, will.

This morning, I was dropped off at Bowling by Dad. He was in a rush to get to North Bay. Mom couldn't pick me up, because she had a funeral to go to. So I tookthe bus home, schlepping my bowling ball all the way to the GO Station and then, deciding I wouldn't have a better opportunity, to the comic store, and home at last. Long morning.

I spent a long time waiting for the bus. Nearly an hour, in fact. Thankfully, it was not intolerably cold today (and as I predicted, the first snowfall did not take.) I used the time to ruminate on how far my life has advanced, where I've found myself, where I'm going, where everyone else is, who I miss... how proud Guthrie would be to hear I was doing NaNoWriMo. I got quite emotional, but not sad, just nostalgic. I now have something to call "the good old days." Funny.

I thought about how I do not identify myself as a Sheridan student. When I was at White Oaks, yes, that was my life, my identity, but now Sheridan is just where I happen to be. I study journalism at Sheridan, but do not choose to identify myself as a "Journalism Student." Which will really seem odd when I'm writing the fershlugginer newspaper, but that's me: a writer who happens to study journalism at Sheridan, and work as a porter at Classic Bowl.

Been giving more thought to finding a new job. I'm conflicted now. I feel like I'm a better fit now than a few weeks ago. I could still use a change of venue, but at least now I feel I am not hated.

I can deal now with my frustrations. It's no easier than WOSS, but I don't get so caught up in it because it's not where my identity is.

I have a life that is satisfactory. Could things be better? Always. But will the sun rise at dawn? Of course.

Healthy, sane, and clean.

Keep on rocking
Lord Williams