No New Orleans in October – or – The Same Shit Everyone Else is Facing

Life is hard all over. I wish it weren’t, but it is. Changes may happen in the next few weeks that redefine everything for me. I need a job. A job with enough money to pay the bills. Two interviews last week, but none set up yet for this week. Hopefully tomorrow changes that. Few offices work on the weekends anyways, so that could be it.

Watching Jon Oliver last week made me not want to go back to school. The interview on Thursday said I was overqualified. I don’t know how to find the right kind of job.

Matt and I fought this weekend. We also made up, which was nice. He surprises me. He shows me that I can surprise myself. I need that sometimes.

I discovered this weekend how impossible it will be to visit home next month. Ironically, the day I announce this sad fact, I was guest to a meal that made me cry it tasted so like home. The message I’m choosing to take from this: I will find small pieces of home to feed my soul for the time being. Thanks to Richard and Luciles for the hope and flavors.

The characters on Futurama eat shoes a lot.

On Tuesday I’m talking with a gal about orgasms. I think back to my goals with W.E.L.L., and the ideas I had for streaming last year. I’ve been wanting to help women learn their own bodies for a while now, and haven’t been able to find a useful, functional way to do this. Kink at least leaves the topic more open than most other settings. I know it’s taken me about 8-10 years to master this level of my own sexuality, but if someone had guided me, helped me along the way, it might have gone faster. Maybe I can help someone else. Maybe I can help more than one woman, even. But we’ll see how talking on Tuesday goes.

In the silver linings department, I may yet master my up-smash before I play Max again. With that AND dodging, I may stand a chance against Red Nes.

My street is quiet tonight. Outside my house there’s an empty soda can that keeps getting rolled across the cement by the wind. Denver gets sleepy on Sunday night, like all of Cap Hill works a 9-5 job and knows Monday is too close for comfort. Matt snores softly in the background of my apartment, and I will leave the windows open for the breeze while I still can. It’s nice to have another week of nice temperatures coming up, but I think I’m gonna break out the heated mattress pad sometime before October rolls around.

I miss home. I hope she knows I haven’t forgotten her.

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