We're your sons and your daughters

Stack of unread magazines

I don't have much of anything to say today. But with all my talk of white blazes and putting one step in front of another, I suppose I need to post, even if it's only one word: hi. I work on Sundays, and when I look back at my history of the blog so far during Lent, it's Sunday and Monday that I've skipped. This part of the week is the most stressful for me, and it's harder because it's nothing that I particularly believe in. It's just for the paycheck.

So what does that mean? I get distracted from the things I really believe in, from the things I really want to do, and for what? A little bit of money? How many of us are like that in this country? In the world? There's a reason they call it the daily grind.

As Yeats said:
"It's certain there is no fine thing
Since Adam's fall but needs much laboring..."

I keep saying that I'm going to just drop out, and then I do, but I always get pulled back in. Just when I thought I was out... It's rough to feel like my real life is always pushed to the corners, and I feel like that about every job I've had since I graduated. Some are worse, some are better, but what it boils down to is that I'm not being paid to do the things I believe I'm meant to be doing. What it boils down to is money.

I've said all of this a hundred times before. A thousand times before. I'm sick of moaning about it, but what else do I have to talk about? The life of sunsets over water every night is gone. Now I have sunsets over parking lots if I have them at all.