There’s a lot of stuff I’ve wanted to write about.
A lot of things have happened, but I just haven’t had a chance to breathe for the past couple of weeks.

First, it was Gencon with the little sis for four or five days.   Then it was the little brother for four days.  Jason was with me the whole time and we were traveling every day.
—  Which is fine.   It’s great to go to places I don’t normally go ever, but it’s so whirlwind that I don’t think I get to enjoy them properly.   Maybe I’m just getting old a bit.   I want to be able to enjoy the moment and look around instead always thinking about what’s coming the next day.

I’m just getting tired of the whirlwind.

Okay.  I like whirlwinds, but fun ones.   Not ones that twist my insides, make me wonder about my mental health, and cause doubt about how I’ve lived my life.   Trips that boomerang me from one location to another without the ability to breath or appreciate the surroundings – not fun.

As Jason was hopping into a Southwest plan to leave me for the…. a lot of times…  he said that this might be the last time.

Woooosh.
Whirlwind.

Which, I guess technically could be right.   He’s waiting until graduation to reunite with me.  He could graduate in December.

But, my head was…. nope….

If he feels that we can’t afford to live together now while he’s in college, how are we supposed to live together when there’s tuition coming due that’s potentially double the mortgage payment.

Down girl.
This is where he’s going to start an awesome job or advance at the one he currently holds.    I’ll continue my piddly adjunct work until I belt out a best selling novel.  Then, we all live happily ever after.   Finally.   Sort of.  Right?

Whirlwind ends or at least becomes fun.

Well…  I’d like to believe in a happy ending.   Once.  Maybe twice.

That’s tough.   Even before all this, I didn’t believe in happy endings.  A kiss didn’t wake Snow White and Sleeping Beauty.   An R-rated action did.

Even if happy ending exists, would I be able to actually recognize it?   Would I be able to grasp it?  Would I feel worthy?   Would I wither in guilt and epiphany of how much is wasted?

That’s another jump.
Jumping off a psychological cliff sans parasailing equipment.

Jason is going to have to catch me or keep me from flying off.
That’s hard.

I’m going to punish myself somehow for ice cream…. for KFC…  for pizza….

Is the end where I begin?