The atomic clock keeps ticking like a metronome and the days fall off the edge of the earth the the fallout. These days I feel like I'm driving the streets of San Francisco. One day I'm winning beaucoup cash at the casino and falling into a new relationship, and the next I'm dreading going to school and losing a person I care about through no fault of my own. Nothing feels catastrophic, but I feel like the weather is mocking me and my fluctuating moods. Even though I've decided to remain in New Orleans for the next year, I will not return to teaching next year. I've checked out, burnt from the daily toil. I plan on entering a year of resurgence. I can regain myself, who I was through a coddling of my social life. The summer will cut off my excrutiating stress like a french guillotine. I'm intentionally being vague, because I feel ephemeral right now, like I'm floating. While my intentions are in no way cloudy, I like wading through this mist. I've catalogued the next few month weekend by weekend. As I scatter them in front of me, they seem to alternate between work and play. I can manage a flip-flopping April and May. I'm gonna go smoke a cigarette. I miss Corey.
