I have to change my habits if I plan to get any work done. Achieving what I came to do, I can reasonably support myself. Now the hard work begins. Getting here was fun and exciting and everything I did was brand fucking new. Now I’m working 7 days a week at two jobs and barely have time to see the few people that want to see me. Writing and yoga, my two real passions, fell by the wayside as my real-life stress increased. Cracks are forming at the seams between fantasy and reality and my need for balance is at critical levels.

Fortunately, there’s the health insurance. Dedicating time and money to health issues is my way of saying, Fuck you life I’m not done yet. My massage therapist found the impinged nerve in my neck last week. On a very primitive level, it’s still amazing to find someone that believes me. Convinced the pain was imaginary for so many years in my life, I still abuse myself with denial. Taking progressive steps toward sourcing and fixing the problem, my biggest obstacle is shedding old hangups.

I’ve only met one truly mean person in Seattle. Fortunately I’m convinced I’ll never have to see him again.