blurry formalities

The atomic clock keeps ticking like a metronome and the days fall off the edge of the earth the the fallout.  These days I feel like I'm driving the streets of San Francisco.  One day I'm winning beaucoup cash at the casino and falling into a new relationship, and the next I'm dreading going to school and losing a person I care about through no fault of my own.  Nothing feels catastrophic, but I feel like the weather is mocking me and my fluctuating moods.  Even though I've decided to remain in New Orleans for the next year, I will not return to teaching next year.  I've checked out, burnt from the daily toil.  I plan on entering a year of resurgence.  I can regain myself, who I was through a coddling of my social life.  The summer will cut off my excrutiating stress like a french guillotine.  I'm intentionally being vague, because I feel ephemeral right now, like I'm floating.  While my intentions are in no way cloudy, I like wading through this mist.  I've catalogued the next few month weekend by weekend.  As I scatter them in front of me, they seem to alternate between work and play.  I can manage a flip-flopping April and May.  I'm gonna go smoke a cigarette.  I miss Corey.

Comments

[Anne]

welcome back. it's all hard. but hope is with you, and that is so good.