Oh, holy crap on a stick. I'm worn out to a frazzle in a cotton shirt that's been washed too many times. I just finished the summer class that's been killing me for the past 3 weeks, so now I get a normal week....maybe.


Exhaustion, damned be your name.

"...but I am a writer and depth is a writer's natural element. We are divers, and divers do not lounge on the beach inviting the admiration of the naive, we plug our ears and tighten our goggles and go down below."--Garrison Keillor, "Lake Wobegon Summer 1956"

There's something about seeing a mostly empty parking lot at the high school you went to. It's empty because of graduation, of course, another class of 18 year olds sent out into the open air like termites to chomp at the wood of the world.

I wish I could tell them so much, but even I can't put everything into words. I want to hug them, slap them, beat them with a large hunk of wood, give them meaningful advice, tell them there is a God and yes he does love you, I want to kiss them on their foreheads in a solemn benediction and tell them that yes, as human beings, you are going to fail.

Whoops. I guess I forgot to update. My bad. Deal with it, by the way.


Finals happened. Think I did okay on most of them.

.....that's about it.

Kbye.