So...................

I don't know what to say today.

So I guess I'll riff.

Therapy has me unsettled. In two sessions I have revealed a great deal about my life, and a great deal about my emotions. It is a different experience to speak openly to a complete stranger. It makes me think.

I get off the call and feel pathetic. And strangely comforted. And deeply curious about where this is all headed. I think the answer to my hangups is in my head. Either I don't have the strength to face them, or the intelligence to deal with them. I am hoping Jennifer can unlock something within me, epiphany-like, that will set me straight.

I see in her the ability to relate something from my past to the way I think today, in a way that I haven't done before. This is exactly what I am looking for. She has done it a couple of times already.

I am so deeply entrenched in my own darkness that I can't function like a normal human being. I am hoping she can find a way to pull back the darkness and allow me to see myself honestly, instead of destructively.

We'll see. I remain hopeful.

I am climbing back up on the horse. Exercising as much as my knee and my obesity will allow. Fucking knee still ain't right, but honestly, I did not stick with the exercises religiously. So I am pushing it a bit. If it doesn't come around in another week I'll check back in with Dr. Feelgood #2.

Cut way back on the booze. Feel better. I never felt shitty, but now that I am drinking "normal" amounts, I feel better physically in an indefinable way. If I feel tired I don't drink at all before going to bed. If I feel awake, I drink an acceptable amount of whiskey. Interesting experiment. I am not sleeping "better", I am sleeping differently.

My first experiment with copywriting failed. I earned a grand total of $28 before they effectively fired me.

I couldn't keep up because I didn't commit. On work days, if I had a deadline, I just blew it off. Because when I get home from that fucking job I want to cut my fucking head off. So they said "Fuck you" and stopped assigning work.

There are lots of copywriting websites out there. I am registering with another one today. I am trying to save our lives, here. If the price of oil goes up to $6 or $7 dollars a gallon, Carol and I will be found frozen to death next to an empty box of matches. Fuck that shit.

I am fighting for our independence. Being vulnerable is not a look we wear well.

We are renewing efforts to get this house off our backs. It's desperation time, folks. Sell or die. Our realtor is coming out next week to develop a strategy. There are plenty of unsuspecting rubes out there who will pay through the nose for this rat trap. People who don't know what a black fly is; who believe civilization is actually within reach of this godforsaken location.

I am as a bear awakening from hibernation. And I am angrier, more frustrated and more desperate than ever.

I have other plans waiting in the wings but I won't talk about them until I actually start doing them.

The Famous Final Scene, ladies and gentlemen.

I am trying to write it in mine and Carol's favor.

Wouldn't hurt if you prayed for our success.