I have a lot of free time.

Most of which I can not, do not, use because I feel like shit. So I do what I can. Play with and feed, walk the dog. Read the news (from non-American bought-off companies, of course) and keep up on the business world. Between bouts of melancholy and ambivalence I stroke my investments for maximum yield.

I sometimes sweep and mop the kitchen floor so my puppy doesn't die due to dirt ass parents.

But mostly I think. Think about what I had planned on doing with my life. Think about all the friends and enemies I used know from what feels like decades ago. Ponder, plot and plan-the Capricorn's sacred 3 P's.

I often sew in the basin of my own anxiety.

This is because I'm not working, not going to school, even though the thought of doing so makes me queasy with aggravation, not doing any of things that I used to do before life went sideways. I always worry about money even though I have plenty at the moment. I wonder when my girlfriend will find a job that will take the financial pressure off me and, most importantly, off of her.

It's all very taxing.

It is, however, all I can do. I can not will my disc back into place. I can not make the diabetes go away; it's complications tagging along for the departure. My eye is as good as it's going to get until medical science figures out the whole nanobot-in-the-blood repair thing.

Things could be worse and I can still make them better.



The truth is: It's never all bad for me. I've made it this far be holding on to the good. The funny and the strange. The happy and turning of the tides. No one gets to heaven by jumping of the roof-you have to climb those stairs. So it's step by step for me. No matter how hard the hammer falls.

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