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Labor day:  you could not have come at a better time.  With all the stress of work and personal issues this year, I am in sore need of a weekend getaway.  I’ve got my bikini and my books packed.  I want the beach!

This year, to date, has felt so much like that oft-heard of mid-life crisis.  So many huge changes.  So many sobfests.  So much thinking about what life is about and where it’s going.  Oh yes, very deep and disturbing thoughts have fluttered around in my brain.  If I don’t laugh about these things– and soon– well, I can’t even finish that sentence.

I had a moment of feeling quite middle-aged this week:  was having a long convo with a close aunt (actually a great aunt) and we were talking about her grandkids, and how they were able to get scholarships into college.  I said I had a shitty guidance counselor (she was about a hondo, and had no information whatsoever) and really had no guidance at all.  She said ‘why didn’t you use the Internet to search for scholarships?’  Awkward silence.  Umm, there WAS no Internet when I was in high school.  Well, there was the technology, but it was not available to everyone, and certainly not in the way it’s available now.  Our computers in school still worked on the DOS system, for fuck’s sake!

This is the moment I realized the huge chasm between my generation and those behind it.  HUGE.  I was talking with a friend this week about how time is really flying; the older you get, the faster it goes.  Most days I feel as if I am being pushed forward in time; catapulted, even.  It’s frightening.

So.  In the midst of all this chaotic emo crap, I’m heading down to the Gulf of Mexico.  Got a ton of reading material, including a newly purchased Joyce Carol Oates anthology of shorts. Got my shades, got my short-shorts.


Monday night; errands, traffic.  On the radio Pearl Jam is singing “Alive.”

Can you only measure your life’s worth if you come close to losing it?

Am I retracing my steps or just walking the same paths over & over because I am forced by habit?

All I can think to do is put words to paper.

Life seems to push us all forward, whether we want it to or not.  Whether I want to be pushed or not, I can feel time pushing me.  Funny how fickle time can seem.  Sometimes it works in your favor; sometimes, it does not.

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