Fog

I confess that I have been in a moderate slump personally, and it is not that I haven't tried mightily to pull myself out of it. I could blame it for affecting the general lack of housekeeping I have done lately, both literal and figurative. I'm sure that I'll be able to eventually pull out of it, yet I know that it will require for me to try and get back in touch with the things that I think I have lost touch with. If all of this sounds vague, it is supposed to because, after all, if I knew what exactly it was that I needed, then I wouldn't be feeling like I was in a slump.

Work continues apace. Instead of showing up for work in the morning, I decided to go in at night (thank goodness for a lenient boss) and get some of the work I've been putting off done, such as updating more web-images on the corporate site website. Three years ago, when I had a full-time job year round - not like the summer job I have now - I had to work from 3:00 p.m. to at least 11:30 p.m. everyday. Sometimes, when the schedule would change, the whole work crew, including me, would be required to work much later, to at least 3:00 a.m. or so. Often, when the moon was high, I'd drive through the forest and home, noting almost every time the utter lack of people. (I'm reminded of the highwayman poem by Alfred Noyes that begins: "The wind was torrent of darkness among the gusty trees / The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas.") It got to the point where I began to feel crowded in places other people might have felt lonely. I did ten years of that. And I think that it has left a mark in my motivation to work more at night than during the day. This spiritual malaise will lift, I'm sure. I liken it to a coastal fog or winter rain storm; everyone knows that these things eventually pass, but noone really knows when.