Thanks to the beauty of Netflix streaming directly through my Wii (remarkably well, for an, ahem, older piece of technology), I’ve been catching up on some old movies, some popular, some esoteric. Which is good, I suppose, for I have been feeling extremely antisocial lately.
Part of it, I think, is that the job hunt has pretty much returned to the “crapped out” stage. I had several resumes out there for jobs that, by God, were right up my alley, but I’m not even getting interviews for. Right now, my only income is from the occasional Savvy dealing gig, actually moving furniture once in a while and selling old crap on eBay and Craigslist. I knew moving back to Bend was going to be tough going for employment, but I’ve been here a year an a half and still nothing full-time. And I’m running out of stuff to put on eBay. My baseball card collection? The one that was going to pay for the kids’ college education? Essentially worthless. But at least I got plenty of gum. Mmm, crunchy Topps gum…
With frustration comes, well, non-motivation. And drinking a lot. Gin and tonic has been the drink of choice lately, what with the warm temperatures, and while I run the risk of liver cirrhosis, I certainly have no fear of malaria.
I should at least be spending my days writing that great novel I’ve had pinballing in my brain for the last twenty years. But I look at the blank page and…just nothing.
That’s why you, good readers (all three of you) get to wait two weeks between blog updates. Lately, Facebook has become my preferred medium for pithy comments and snarky asides.
God, what else do I have going on? As you’ve already guessed, the answer is pretty much nothing. Softball season comes to a close this Monday, much to my sorrow – this has been one of my best years, hitting over .700 for the year (yes, it’s recreational co-ed, not exactly a softball Murderer’s Row, but I’ll take what I get) and stellar pitching and defense from yours truly.
I suppose I will be visiting Bill & Rosemary down at Miller Lake sometime in the next few weeks. Maybe next week, when the temperatures are supposed to hit the mid-nineties. Too warm for my Viking blood.
Maybe my next blogpost will have better news and a less morose Dave. And be in less than two weeks. No promises on either count, though.
