I am so grateful that, despite all the craziness of the last week, I have not wanted to take a drink or other substance into my body. Amazing, considering that in the past my best thinking would have led me to those places. I think that I’m improving a bit.
I have this strange feeling that society demands certain things from me.
1. In order to be ‘a man’ I need to be a breadwinner of some sort.
2. Success is based on how much bread I win
3. I am currently not earning any bread, therefore…
You see the dilemma. A large part of mind/psyche/whatever knows that this is all stuff and nonsense. I do not believe that success is a product of financial gain. I do not believe that financial success gives way to security, rather it demands that more money be accrued to feed the bottomless pit. Success is something much more personal and a more complex concept than simply a stuffed wallet. I see this all around me, so I know that it’s true. I fall into depths of disbelief and forget these things, and then I panic. If I can sit quietly for a minute I see the truth, and I am reassured of my own success, which for me is a daily act of humility. If I can make it through the day without being a jerk and learning something in the process, I can say that I have had a successful day. I’m workin’ it right now. Seems to be going just dandy.
Sweetie Pie, on the other hand, is one horny minx. She has gone into heat. She yowls around the house, crawling on her belly with her butt in the air, ready for whatever Tomcat happens along. What a slut! This will all change on Wednesday, when she goes to the vet to be spayed. She is fitting right in here, though, and, as I write this entry, is curled up, asleep, on my couch.
Johnnyboy
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