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Don’t worry, I’ll get back to seashells tomorrow – it takes more research than you’d think!  I love doing research for that kind of stuff.  Come to think of it, I’ve always liked doing research for term papers and such.  It’s like hide-and-seek or detective work – which are rather similar, aren’t they?

I watched Deadliest Catch this afternoon while working out.  The Captain used to like it, but I had never seen it.  The skipper of the Wizard, Keith Colburn, looks and talks a lot like the Captain, so it’s kind of nice to watch.  But in the episodes I caught today, Captain Phil thought he had a punctured lung and spent considerable time contemplating his own mortality.  I found that interesting, ironic and foreshadow-y, considering his death from a stroke this past February.  I wonder if the two were related?  At any rate, he seemed like a really good dude, someone I would have liked, and his passing, which I took note of in February even though I’d never watched the show, saddens me.

I woke up so incredibly depressed this morning. I feel better now, after the workout and getting out a bit, but I swear I could have just sat on the couch zoning out in front of the TV forever.  I attribute this to several things.

1.  Getting so sick right when I was gearing up to start my new business was a very bad thing.  I lost a lot of momentum.  And I am having a very difficult time getting it back.  Hey, didn’t I whine about this just last week?

2.  It’s hard for me to work at home.  Since I’m not good at keeping in touch with friends, I find myself very isolated.  I don’t miss going to work everyday, but I do miss interacting with people.  Perhaps a part-time job at Starbucks is not a bad idea.  Isn’t barista a transferable skill?At least I will be sure to go write at coffeehouses this week, just to get me out of my own house.

3.  The lack of income makes me feel unsafe.  Yes, I have enough to live on for a while.  But just as I was tired of working so much and taking care of everybody, I find that even taking care of just me is a real drain on my soul.  I have always been so independent that this feeling is truly alien for me, but catch myself tearing up, lamenting my lost childhood, where someone else was taking care of me and I was always safe.  Not that I want to find a man to take care of me, but … but … oh, I don’t know.  It doesn’t matter.  It is what it is.

I have no plane ticket in hand.  I HATE it when that happens.  Kelsea and I are planning to drive to Topsail this year, which should be an experience and a half.  But I was toying with the idea of a month in Paris.  Why not now?  If not now, when?  OK, how about a week in Sanibel Island?  But this is where the lack of income becomes a huge boil on my spirit.

Duke is in the Elite 8.  I don’t watch basketball, but my parents loved it before they died (and perhaps still – who can be sure about the afterlife?), and they were hardcore Dukies.  So I pay attention to March Madness in their honor.  They’d have been so pleased and excited.  And my Dad, with his West Virginia roots, would have been happy about that team as well.

Why is it so often cold on weekends but warm during the week?  And why, since I am not working (how weird is that?) should it matter to me, as a weekday is the same as a weekend?  Old habits die hard.

Once again, I have missed the Cherry Blossom Festival in Washington. This year was the perfect opportunity, as E-Bro had so generously offered to fly Kelsea and me out for Spring Break.  But I couldn’t justify the other expenses just now, so I sadly declined.  Her Spring Break hasn’t worked out the way either of us thought, but at least she hasn’t had to go to school.  A promise: Cherry Blossom Festival next year for sure.  Life’s too short.

That’s just it in a nutshell, isn’t it?  Life’s too short.

August 2014
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