On Last Week

The first sweaty rays of Summer shine upon us. They still fight with the brisk Spring mornings sometimes relying on humidity to sucker bunch that last touch of tolerable weather.

The town is alive. Heat exciting everything it touches has brought back the reason I enjoy living here. The live bands that I can hear on Sunday afternoons. The Car Shows on the Main Drag that let you drink you in public. The parades, free concerts, artisan shows in the alley behind my house. Everyone comes here to have fun and get away from problems. The depressing normality of suburbia or the financial acceptance of living in an apartment are foreign here. Take a walk along our historic canal. Drink cheap beer at one of many dive bars. Recline in a garden drinking fancy cocktails. Visit our three museums. Our candy shop. Bakeries. Breweries. Feel free to throw up at the bottom of my stair case. Just have fun.

Work is boring. There is nothing new left to learn in my role. I wish they would do something about that. They wonder why the corporation does so much to make sure people stay and yet I languish. I spend hours doing literally nothing productive for the company. The hours are productive for me but there is a guilt when I show up to work and sit at my desk for hours with nothing to do.

I never had that growth meeting. It has left me disillusioned. I was excited for it. For the possibility of more responsibility. For classes. Literally anything more than what I am doing now. It is not happening. It makes me not care. I can go elsewhere. How many people do you hire every month that actually want to work?

Huck Finn

I wanted to read a book that wasn't so up in the feels this week and this was a bad choice. The con artists, the race bullshit, the child abuse, alcoholism... The book had a happy ending though. And the last hundred pages were very funny.

These last few books I have read have changed the way I feel about my brother and sisters. More uncaring. How impossible it is to understand another mind. To help. To change. To teach.

Kill each other. That is what we are. It is not our fault. Be sad and depressed. It is not your fault. Steal. That is how we get by. Lie to yourself. That is how you get by. Who am I to assume you lie? Some enigmic that never had the capacity for truth. Capacity is wrong. We do not hold the truth. It is just the name for the product people who think they know better make.

I apologize for the depressing monologue. I'll read something happier this week.

Next Week

I have two different friends coming in next week. I am excited for them. Sharing this wonderful part of the country with people is very rewarding. I wish I could live in Chicago.

I might miss next weeks entry. Who knows?