Mo'

I once talked with a co-worker named Shelly, who was suddenly amazed to realize that her son Oscar had spen "more time out than in." Meaning he'd been out of the womb over 9 months.

And I'm starting to wonder about the Next Life Stage (sly Wells Fargo tagline reference) in which I've spent more time as an independent adult than as a kid.

This all has to change. I'm casting about for a new therapist, and what I'd really like to do is give him or her an incentive-laden contract. You get X dollars if I y. You get 5x if I y for 3 years. Et cetera.

Because the last thing I want to do is pay to sit around and talk about how miserable I am. That'd be like Blogger suddenly charging, or you, suddenly charging to soak up this nonsense.

So, goals for post-Hawaii:
Start yoga.
Find a therapist.
Start settling into a routine. That doesn't involve heavy drug or alcohol intake.
Get everything sold or onto a shelf in my apartment.