On this, a brisk Wednesday night, I have a rare night off from work. The plans are to take myself out to the Bunganut Pig and listen to some jazz that the Nashville Scene deems to be good. I put on my good shirt, gather my things, and at the last minute, change my mind. Instead, I put on some Warren Zevon and peruse some blogs I like. I am sure that I made the right decision.
Zevon, of course, died of lung cancer in 2003. A coworker of mine just lost his little brother also to cancer a few days ago. While listening to Warren's resonant voice, I am viewing pitcherlady's photoblog on the homeless in our fair city. Do I live a rich life or what? My problems are the dreams of others. Elsewhere on the web, I read the following story. What's the cost of homelessness?
In addition to my familial obligations and joys, I still search for my purpose. There are two truths that have been loud in my mind lately. One, I feel that my talents are being wasted. Two, I have no idea what those talents are.
I read an article in Psychology Today recently that explained why money was not indeed a true source of happiness, which is nice to know since I have very little of it. But then it went on to say that a good circle of friends and plenty of free time were the true sources. Hmmm...my circle is quite small because I have so very little free time. That said, I have no complaints. "I am what I am, and I ain't what I ain't." -John Prine