Where Happiness Is

2005-03-16 - 6:14 p.m.

Sorry for the lack of entries. Rugby season is upon me, which means that I now have, each week, about 10 hours of time to myself, once you factor in (in order of the time it eats up) work, sleep, rugby, D&D, and social obligations.

Those 10 hours are supposed to be spent cleaning up, but that's not happening. A good alternative would be to spend that time writing, but that's not happening either.

What is happening is that I end up getting stoned and watching TV and then going to sleep. Maybe when this season of Survivor is over, I'll ditch the cable.

I probably won't.

In general, though, I'm pretty happy. Today was one of those days where I just felt great, for no compelling reason. Work is okay, but what's really great is that on the slow days I've taken to writing in a small notepad I take with me everywhere. I jot down ideas or things I noticed, and every now and then I scribble the beginnings of a short story. Once I adapt to rugby again, my next goal is to work the writing in somewhere. I've been doing it sporadically, just enough to realize - yet again - how much I love to write, how much it means to me. It's been such a constant in my life: I change and grow and have setbacks and leaps forward, but through it all, I've been a writer. I can't imagine myself in a future where I don't have a pen in my hand at least some of the time. It's reassuring to know that I have a niche, that there's something in this world that I can be good at and enjoy at the same time.

My new job, no matter how stultifying it can seem sometimes, has taught me something more about myself: sitting in a window in afternoon sunshine while Indian music plays on the radio and cars zip by outside and raccoons eat the building; a pen in my hand and ideas flowing through it; when I stop to take a breath and feel warm and spent and alive...that's happiness for me.

In other news, there's a rugby crisis going on that couldn't be more ill-timed, because part of it involves two people who I like not liking each other feels like good ol' fashioned drama and part of it and the other part of it feels like good ol' fashioned drama, which I have no use for unless I'm at the centre of it, which I am not.

There are three or four of you out there who really need to hear from me if I'm going to ever claim to have been a good friend. I'm thinking about you, and will do my best to get in touch.

Cheers,

The Magus

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