Welcome To My Bed

You've got to misunderstand.

Sometimes things are so clear that it's jarring. A January class on grass-roots social change movements that requires an extensive media project. So wrong for me. Off the list.

For this month, I'm helping to teach a class on zines. I have never made a zine and know very little about them, but I have a bunch of random knowledge about book-binding. So, there I am. Maybe I'll be inspired to start publishing things on my own. Probably not though. It's really just a way to pass the time.

Getting a second job, if all goes according to plan. And then a savings account. And then pipe dreams become floor plans for what I'll be building in May: a new life independent of what's been given to me. Every time I breathe a little too deeply, I can smell something foreign. I feel change in my lungs. Maybe I'm just smoking too much. I have no idea.

Things are settling in, all falling into place. I have plenty to smile about.