Vent.

Today, I found out that I need to make A's on 3 quizzes and my final in order to pass O-Chem (seriously?!).  After spending 5 hours waiting in line to wait in a chair to wait in a cubicle, I was denied "nutrition assistance" because I am a student, but I do not work more than 20 hours per week. (I now need to log at least 20 hours per week working towards increasing my revenue from my business, Behrs Necessities. Then, I can apply after a month of logging and hope for the best.)   I was denied "medical assistance" because I am a single adult with no living children.  This means I still cannot afford the allergen elimination diet the doctor wants me to eat and the hives are still attacking.  (I did have a few days of relief, due to my friend who took me grocery shopping.  It took over a week of elimination to get a few day's relief of the hives.  They're back.) 

It has been a rough day and I'm feeling pretty discouraged.  I am simply thankful for the two guys from church that came over and weeded my yard.  Most of all, I am thankful for the love of my sweetheart who helps me stay as positive as possible during this seriously low point in our life together/apart. 

Stumbling Into Greatness

I don't know how I arrived here.  Passing whims of starting a blog quickly faded with a changing mood or forgetful lapse.  Silently coerced by family and friends, with their various inspirational dribbling on cyber napkins for everyone to read... or maybe not everyone.  I'm sure I picked up the pen wireless keyboard, with the intention of starting a new blog, at least a dozen times.  I created an online secret anonymous journal and a gut-wrenchingly candid website from earlier years, before blogging was blogging, really.  I'm not even one hundred percent sure what I plan to document or vent or share or communicate or who will possibly decide to peak into my corner of the bloggosphere and give two craps about what I have to say.  I just know, I'm still hurling along at a snail's pace and there needs to be some sort of expression, other than my over-dependance of Facebook gratification, to get out some of this brain fodder. 

I don't know how I arrived here.  Pulling myself out of one disgusting life consequence after another, I ended up finding myself creating myself in Ohio.  Well, rather I took the goop of clay I had become and began to mold myself into the vessel I happen to be now.  I still refuse the kiln, as I am never good enough to be considered art.  I'm never as good as my imagination and my imagination never compares with the beauty in reality, so I get stuck in a state of mishap and mystery. 

I don't know how I arrived here.  Pragmatic personal pollution of perplexing propaganda.  I dreamed of becoming a massage therapist and ended up on my way to becoming a doctor.  I planted roots and thought I'd be in Ohio for years and years, but I'm sleeping in Arizona every night.  I have the soul of a vagabond, but I own more possessions than I can sell.  I fancy myself a student, but I procrastinate studying as if it is going to physically wound me.  Somehow, I pull a great feat of motivation out from somewhere deep in my marrow and I create a resemblance of an educated mind.  I cannot quite figure out how to stop tripping over myself, literally and figuratively, but I end up a few inches ahead each time (without or without blood stains and bruises).  For all of the misery I find to swallow, I end up burping rainbows.  I guess there's a market for that parlor trick, but mostly it keeps me feeling like I'm stumbling into greatness.