A Damp, Drizzly November In My Soul

The above is from Moby Dick, the first page which is about as far as I made it into that book recently. Whenever Ismael had a damp, drizzly November in his soul, he headed out to sea. I've got no place to go. I need to find a place. This blog helped for a while, but doesn't seem to be doing the trick anymore. Maybe booze? Maybe pills? Works for others. But that's probably not the best idea.

Emotionally I'm running on psychic empty feeling drained and undernourished. As Mr. Burns might say, I need to "push out the jive and bring in the love." It seems like there's nothing out there but jive.

There's too much work to do; to much shit to do; not enough joy.

That being said, this blog is one of the things I feel an obligation to (why?) so I will retire this blog for a while - at least cut down on the posts.

I'm also going to quit watching the news for a while. Daughter No.1 said to me recently, "The news is stupid. All it tells you is what happened. Why don't they tell you what's going to happen." Plus I'm sure it depresses me. From now on it's going to E! entertainment television and VH1 for me.

Take care!

Stay You.
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