Lifting the heavy things

Tonight at work was difficult.
and I felt overwhelmed, but then I realized things were't so bad.

Tonight is an anniversary of sorts, a bad one.  When my friend started to drive to somewhere... she was hit by an oncoming car, a drunk at the wheel.

Tonight, I'm lifting the heavy things off my chest.

Anna Bonde has a scholarship in her name, and a whole event at my old High School.  And although the event is fun, I would give it up just to see her smile again.  We all would.  All these years, I ask myself, "why her?"  She was... an amazing human being.  More here.

Everything's different here since I last wrote.  I left my awful job at the cable company to pursue something not so grim, and now I find that I miss my friends.  My best friend is even different.

Life moves in a cycle though, and I'm finding this cycle a hard one to crack.  I'm just glad that I've been given the opportunity to try again.

Now I'm going to go with my relative alone-ness, I may cry, I may not.  
I'm just thankful for the life I am living now, for those I have known in my past both living and deceased.

Please, everyone be careful and come home safely this weekend, a little green beer is not worth giving up everything for.

A collection of my failures.

I'm thinking, a morbid scrapbook of sorts.  Containing emails, pictures, speeding tickets, letters of condemnation, failed art projects... things of the sort.

A notebook that I can keep these things in, to look on them and realize how far I've come, and that in life, no mistakes are made, not really.  Just happy accidents.

In the next few weeks, I anticipate a bit of quiet reflection, as an era is ending for me.  On to better things I keep telling myself, but, will they really be better?  I mean, I've made some pretty good friends in my time here, and I'm sure they'll stay around because they aren't the sort to desert you, but...  It's just change, hot and heavy, coming down your neck at break-neck speeds.

So I toast my failures, they have made me who I am today, and sometimes I'm pretty fucking kickass.  I have four super intelligent, beautiful children... an apartment, a car, I can do basically what I want to much of the time.

I no longer live in a trailer with holes in the floor.
I am no longer working at a grocery store, ringing groceries because that's all I think I'm capable of.
I am no longer taking daily abuse from customers who know less than I do about technology.
I am being yelled at on weekdays by a tyrannical boss who likes to point his fingers and call mistakes out to everyone, but that's not necessarily undeserved.  There are still many things that leave much to be desired.  And someday maybe I'll get what I desire, someday I may even figure it out.

I'm on track to begin schooling for my Bachelors Degree in the fall.  I compare myself to friends who have their Masters or Ph.D's, but I realize I am being unreasonable; none of those people have kids, or have been married twice.
I did the stupid thing, I followed my heart, not my head.  That's not to say it wasn't rewarding, it just, wasn't that smart of me; convention states there is an order to things, and there are reasons that they order isn't typically fucked with.

But how motivating to know what had to be overcome to reach the summit; or at least where I am so far.

Sometimes though, the lack of achievement feels a bit like your skull melting.  The world is moving so quickly around, and just keeping up sometimes is a pain.

This pathway has now been explored and exploited.  Onward.