The older I get the more in tune my body becomes with the subtle changes of a growing season. Of course I also see everything else in a different light too because I've been there done that on a lot of it and even got some t-shirts. I can feel the summer waning even though it's still hot as a mofo. Somebody told me we were predicted to have a bad winter and my reaction was "bring it on." I can always put on more clothes and put electric heaters around the pipes. Last winter was so warm that we didn't even buy any gas and I still owe the man my first born :) He knows he'll get paid. We are looking at a new roommate to help with living expenses because we're having trouble making it on 1 1/2 salaries. There's always room for one more if they pitch in and play nice.
I try really hard not to whine or feel sorry for myself but I'm just about to go under from the physical and emotional stress of the past few years. I am weary from robbing peter to pay paul. I am sad and lonely when I think about my parents and their situation, even though I know we're doing a good job. I haven't been in a relationship for a year now and feel ready to tackle something other than a totally self centered mama's boy. I should have paid attention to my first instincts on that one. I wasn't the first and won't be the last, I'm sure.
Looks like the hurricane is headed right for Tampa unless it decides to move a little to the left. Gulf Shores was demolished by a hurricane in 2005, our favorite place to do state park on the beach. It's got nothing on Destin though. That place is absolutely gorgeous! I ran across a piece about retirees from the US moving to Central America because of the simplicity of life there. Though I can't imagine doing that, it sounds tempting. Closer than Figi I guess.
Anyways I listened to one co-worker whine and moan the entire day beginning when I walked in the door and I think that's what is in my craw right now. However I'm not there anymore with a weekend off and plenty of beer so let the chillaxing begin.
No comments:
Post a Comment