I had possibly a little too much fun up there because I'm somewhat depressed to be back to my life in its currently unemployed state although finding work shouldn't be as painful as it used to be since I can leverage the internet in all sorts of interesting ways but it's causing me a certain flashbacky anxiety to those days I had to put on a dress and knock on doors up and down whatever highway I had decided held my employment opportunities that time around. my god that was awful. and I'm having a difficult time remembering that I don't have to put on a dress and I don't have to knock on doors and I don't have to take a demeaning job that gets me up at 4:30 to pass breakfast sandwiches through the drive-through window to grumpy commuters on their way to work. sounds like such a stupid meaningless job but it was probably one of the most difficult things I have ever had to do. I lasted two weeks. maybe less. any longer and the guns would have come out. I'm not sure whether I'd have shot them or me first.
I learn best from painful experiences. I don't know how the rest of you do it, but it seems that for imaginative material for envisioning future possibilities I go straight to the most traumatic memories possible. I mean, to the point of freaking out over them because they assume such larger-than-life proportions, as though the unfortunate ways in which I was compelled to construct life for myself the first time through were going to be the prototypes for everything from then on. carve out a trench in your neural patterns and good luck ever climbing out of it.
and if somebody else digs it, give up now.
I guess I have a topic for therapy. I mean, I had a topic. now I think I have material.