20 days until this year is over and I will have one more year of writing under my belt. I could have written multiple novels by now with the amount of words that have spewed forth from me. The problem is what to write? Here it's easy. It's the life and times of one dumbass depressed motherfucker. Doesn't make for a good novel though now does it?
Had a weird dream last night. I was at a Six Flags by myself. And I went to get on a roller coaster and as it started going I realized I wasn't buckled in and no one had come to check on me. The buckle would go together and the ride was already moving. What's the metaphor here? Life is a roller coaster with no straps and no one is going to help me or check on me? Too easy. There's got to be some deeper bizarre meaning, right?
Another day of teaching down. Finished around 4 and got back to the hotel around 4:30. Good thing too because around 5 the sky opened up and went insane. For the next 4-5 hours all it did was rain and thunder and lightening split the sky wide open. Kind of cool. Forget what a good rain storm looked like.
Ate leftovers that I pilfered from class. It was alright. It was food. Watched Warehouse 13 - done with season 1 - played some Diablo, and went to bed around 10.
4 more days and I am home.
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