As I sit here, attempting to think of something to say that will be of interest, I find my mind returning again and again to this idea that I've become a stodgy mid-20's grandpa. I'm not, at least not a grandpa, although that would be quite a feat. Uniterestingly, most of my days consist of work, home, reading, and sleep. I feel as if I should still be out closing down bars and trying to find some sloppy drunk girl to take home and question my morality. Of course I don't do these things, mostly because I abhor bars; also I enjoy the prospect of remaining disease free.
Mostly I blame this feeling on my job. Not to say that I don't enjoy what I do. I quite enjoy it, I'm basically the equivalent of a summer camp counselor but with slightly more danger because of the threat of being shanked. Organizing and supervising sports and leisure activities, as well as teaching classes and workshops on how to coach and manage a team, is never boring, nor do I think I will ever hate it, but it does drain the senses. By the end of the day, I am a collapsed shell of a man, well more like an imploded Peep. I scarcely make it home and know that I get to do it all again in about 12 hours time.
Perhaps this means it is time for a vacation. Haven't had one of those in a while, but not by choice. Can't much go into detail on that subject, however. Need to get away from this place and these people, but the main problem is where in the world would I go. Being stuck in west Texas is disadvantageous, anything worth doing takes a day of driving just to feel like you've accomplished anything. Flying is out because of the expense, and the tight pocketbook of the moment. Maybe I'll just take a week, spend the cash, and fly to someplace random. I've always quite liked the prospect of Idaho, or maybe Vermont.
Then again, maybe I'll just take up a new hobby. I hear this cricket thing is all the rage.