Home!

I have a place in this world now!  A place with internet and a cat and a whole mess of books that need unpacking.  This is the best birthday present ever.

It feels good, but I can’t help that at the very back corner of my mind there’s this little voice that tells me I’m stuck forever now.  It tells me this, attempting to make me into some sort of gypsy who’d run off with the next passing breeze.  But I’ve known such gypsy people, and while I’ve loved and admired a few, I’ve never been one myself.  I like structure.  I am a spider, and my web is strung perfectly in between the immobile points of my life.  If one were to change or fall or if some lumbering nearsighted ape were to walk face first into my web, the entire opperation would crumble and I’d be adrift, afraid, unable to even comprehend the fact that my web needs rebuilding.  It’s uncomfortable, knowing I’m so close to utter oblivion every second of the waking day.  And the voice in my head knows that, and worries me with the thought that I’ll never change my life because I’m too damn scared.  Thing is, I don’t want to be some lacky all my life, and I certainly don’t want to be in management because that’s a soul sucking shit hole that I’d never leave.  But the job I’m at is one of those immobile points.  So I’m working at changing it by the millimeter, slowly building up the dream of another career through letters and countless rejection slips.

I am not unhappy.  Certainly not.  But I feel I could be more than I am right now.  If only I could stop worrying.  Or at least stop walking face first into spider webs.  Plech!

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