Ahh, the dark season approaches. The rainy season is in full shower. What gives my life meaning? I am stuck on this because my life feels stuck. Maybe it always has. Maybe I just have a melancholy temperament and I cannot avoid feeling miserable and purposeless. I'm not sure.
E is Switzerland bound. I am trying to order transcripts to update my apply to teach portfolio. I may head to Aylmer tomorrow is order to . . . call places. I'm not sure what to do with myself, sometimes. Often. I am mostly alone here now . . . having abandoned that house and its inhabitants. I feel so disappointed, but there isn't much I can do about it.
What can I do? All I can do is put one step in front of the other and try to get things going teaching-wise. I can write . . .but I'm not sure what. Surely, after all the effort I have expended in writing, something would have materialized. . . oh well, I'll write for myself and the world can go fug itself. Really.
I can write plays. I can teach. I can read. I can travel. I can enjoy raising my beautiful daughter.
Everything else seems beyond me.
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