People always ask me why it is I always try to do everything when tasks could be easily doled out. Because I realize something: you really cannot count on anyone but yourself to finish a job you care about. I used to get into trouble with it all the time at work, but I really feared for the competency of the people around me. I mean, they weren’t retarded, but you really don’t know how far from that they might have been. And so I sit, in a place where most of my friends are sleeping off their bad hangovers, and I am wondering why it is I continually am that disappointed by people around me. I mean, I have pretty much reclaimed my independence to my own life, switching my job and taking care of business. I cannot go to school this fall without a literal miracle, because of a mistake made in my loan repayment.

I came home tonight and the dog had taken a bite out of my mattress, and I freaked out on her. My new mattress with evidence of a bite mark from my jealous dog. The result is the continued abolishment of the animal to outside the confines of the bed.

I can’t help being honest. It really is a condition of my personality. I can’t paint a pretty picture of a not-so-pretty situation. I mean, it’s my life, and I live it without intent to hurt. It’s enough; yes, I think so.

Oh yes. The Slamdance deadline is tomorrow. We shall see. I came up with two more characters while I rode home on the path tonight. A new story, a new short. And it is good.

Thank god my mind is swarming with so many ideas. I can never be bored by imagination.