I'm well into my fifth bottle of a six-pack of hard cider, and I'm taking a break from the required disaster film that comes with reasonable inebriation. I'm actually on the house's back deck availing myself of the house wireless to least make some kind of entry for what has been a less than spectacular week. As I told another friend, being unemployed gives one too much room for habits, such as kvetching as he said in reply, so I am doing my best to avoid falling into another cyber-whine. Simply, its been one of those weeks where a confluence of negative events come together to bow the legs under a considerable weight. I have had to deal with everything from my most beloved rat's fall into the illness of old rodent age, to my parents' travail with the oncoming of a powerful hurricane. I will spar details, and anything else that falls into the middle of that range, to comment that I am amazed how well I am handling all of this. I am a man who has always been very answerable to his fear, yet I have refused to fall into the expected panic that is a family legacy in such matters. It would be nice if I could feel the extent of this gain in my abilities to cope with what is no more than life, with all its troubles, but I'm not quite there yet. All I am left with is the broadening gulf between who I believe myself to be, and what I am actually doing. No wonder reality is so highly overrated at times. Again, I won't elaborate, as that would be another repetitive exercise in chest-beating that serves no purpose. How can I sit here under the chill of a starry night and draw up my further angst, when even my shrink states that he is amazed how well I am handling my affairs. All I would do would expound on limitations that are mostly of my own making. I will leave it at this status report then. Hopefully, in a more sober inclination tommorrow, I might have something worth adding to the chronicles of my progress.
Just a note, recently I noted that to progress, man must eat his own gods. I correct this, because deification is a manifestation of man's fear of the unknown in a great universe. So in truth, man eats his gods so that he can eat his own fear, and find that it is nothing but a mere trifle in the banquet.
I still hope. I'm good.

Onward, ever onward.