I don't think I could stomache the death of a friend...ever, at all. But since I've moved I feel like I've suffered the death of several friendships, metaphorically speaking. Sometimes it feels like an effort just to control thought...making attempts to handle it. It's like watering a plant just to cut it down; investing at the brink of recession. What's the fucking point? And to love fully: deep and immersed only for the river to choke dry at the end of its path; doesn't lead to an ocean, doesn't lead to a beautiful spring, it just ends in dry oblivion nothing to offer but a sack of shit life left behind. It's all just too much.

Dizzy

After a little less than a week in Lake Tahoe I've switched my efforts of making certain I'm happy to continuing on my outdoor running path (meaning making certain I'm happy doesn't always include running in the course of the day therefore my efforts are switchiing to what one might call "healthiness") today was just fantastic...the milkman hollered at me and honked his horn. Pretty amazing, especially considering I don't get hit on, ever.

I've been relatively lazy with tidying the abode and the kitchen's in a complete state of disarray due to me. This is terrible considering I have had an insatiable hankering to cook and bake and a messy cookery never done no one good. Ah hell.

Tomorrow I'm going to work IN the hospital which I am rather excited about. Then work's having an art an wine festival followed by er, ugh a kickball game. Don't know how kickball and wine are going to mix. Nonetheless, I'm excited about it.