So here I am upon another Halloween. 54 years old, unemployed, recovering from a phantom knee injury, unable to ride my bike in the beautiful sunshine outside. Wallowing in the comfort of sweat pants and watching marathons of World’s Dumbest on TV.
Yet, I’m teetering on the verge of happiness. Over the last two years I’ve seriously hated my job and am glad they laid me off. While job hunting after 13 years is no picnic, it’s better than dealing with Documentum all day every day.
The knee pain is almost gone and my doctor gave me advice to keep me riding and if El Nino holds off I still have some good riding weather ahead.
And out of nowhere, the urge to write has reappeared. Oddly, it’s not in the form of story ideas. It’s this odd need to sit at my desk and type. As I’m doing now. I’ve been tying for half the day so far. Cool.
Now to find the spark currently whetted by depressors. My health, family health, dog health, mental health. Battling the unrealistic expectations and digging out the hunger and bravado to win over the all-powerful and crippling excess of self-awareness.
So Tom is doing well. The top of the hill ahead. Looking forward to Halloween and then the Day of Dead.TJ wishes I would get the camera out of his face