Cessation's Daughter

Maudlin aspects have tendencies toward exaggeration, and skimmers may wonder if I am jerking their chain about my health. Bladder cancer is unlikely, but my reality is I am headed for a systems break if I cannot change my environment and find some way back to an ascendant arc. Regardless of what is treatable, and what is the accretion of age, I need something else, and I know I do not have much biological time left before my flesh increments more salaries, except mine. These hours are my favorite hours to work, and I might as well be in a vegetative state.

I have not mentioned the elephant that usually trails in the wake of an individual of such intensity and impulse, but this too is a conceit, the self indulgent depressed narcissism of disability and suffering, which I have done my best to resist while not shying from its many avenues of manufacture, but I could just cave, and go back to the regiment of institutionalization, and if I did I'd probably attempt to goad the paraprofessionals into physically abusing me, to shorten the duration. In more droll and immediate fashion, grabbing a bite, and off to sleep.

If I am fortunate enough not to stroke out in the process, I am focusing on three relocation areas to investigate:

1) Going home. Beppe makes me dread what a reality check of landing on Tuscan soil would amount to, but dying on Italian soil is my last remaing desire, and as soon as I can manage the weather I am scheduling a consulate visit, perhaps with the Toshiba in tow for a real time post.

2) Going to Massillon, having researched so much of Ohio for a political fantasy now passe.

3) Texas, but that would be a huge paradigm shift.

Risorgimento

I can only theorize who was tracking my address on probtheme, and have several of those, the minute conveniences we utilize, theories. LBGT activists can be a militant lot, but no, I do not waste my energies stalking strangers online merely to harass, and I am not hounding their chief operating officer either. Counterproductive, which does not mean, once I am finished going my legal circuit, that I will not engage their board of directors. I intend to exhaust all my options before deciding my next step, whatever that may be, in declining health, but whoever you were, obviously, you wasted your time. I learned my lessons about foaming the head on the beer glass, and actively trolling doesn't earn money, does it? Your SB event sounds like fun, DW, reasonably priced, but I think I am staying home, passing up any possible sexual overkill with a pot belly.

I spent over $470 on the James Joyce reading group, and unhappily realized I did not need another undergraduate audit, and I am not enjoying myself, lagging in my studies, in my reading. Do I drop it, and just go in for research on my stronger days? I like Lance, told him as much, and reluctantly tapped him as a resource for, yes ssis, academic support, but I feel like an alien at the table, whether or not my perception is accurate, and have not made friends, (though the question remains, whom I would like to adopt, and that would not be the instructor, since I see myself as an imposition on his youthful volubility) and regret not waiting for a really motivating study choice. I have not made any decisions, one way or the other. Five sessions to go, while the weather is warm today, but bad for me to engage. Winds, with storms coming. How do I get out of this city, keeping my humanity intact?

I cannot handle full time career pressures to the extent that you can, not anymore.