The New Year

Plenty of wonderful things have happened in ’08. But in terms of how I like to live my life outdoors, i’d say it was a pretty crappy year, of course, by my fault. I have this totally unfounded fear of going to the doctor. I think most men do. For a good 90% of the year I had a hernia that prevented me from exercise and i never went to the doctor about it. And somewhere in the middle of the year i broke my leg while being drunk in a mosh pit. Another really bad decision. Those two injuries involved a lot of inactivity. I want to make this year a year of adventure. I’m back on the bike, I’m back on the trails, and I even have started to pick up rock climbing. Hopefully i am easily able to drop the 15 pounds i gained while sitting on my injured arse for a year. I must say that it helps having a girlfriend just as into the outdoors as i am.

For a year i have worked 45 hours a week with special needs children. One organization i work for full-time is a fantastic place for the children, yet as an employee, i feel like i’m selling myself short by working there. They don’t take care of the employees as well as they should. It’s a stressful job. It breaks your heart on a daily basis. Yet, I don’t have any sort of degree and feel that i can’t go elsewhere. I don’t make a good student, i have no time or money for it either. I almost feel trapped in my occupation. I don’t want to ever sling fries and burgers, yet i could possibly make more money doing it. I love what i do.I love helping the children. And ultimately, it is about the kids… it’s just so very hard to live off of it. I resent that i still live at home. I work so damn much and sitll don’t have the money to live on my own in this city.

So with two jobs in the special needs field and the desire to stay fit and healthy, i’ve neglected my writing. I look at things i’ve written in the past and just feel like i could never accomplish such works again. Even when i can’t walk, writing will always be there and yet i can never muster the energy to sit and do it. Someone at work has taken an interest in my art and it makes me want to pick up the pen more. i just somehow never get around to it. It may not seem like such a big deal, but it’s the first things that i ever had confidence about. the first thing to get me out of my shell and appreciate myself. I need to develop the habit of just writing. how i feel. what i see. what i want. With no worry about form or content. Maybe then i can coax the magic back into my pen. It’s so hard to find balance in such a hectic world.