I've been slowly sliding downhill. There's a lot of stress in my life right now, my mind responds by getting depressed. It didn't work this way before, but it does now. Such is life.

The creative juices aren't flowing as freely, which is to be expected. I'm on a downhill slide. Such is life.

Tonight, I go to Portland for orientation tomorrow. The wife gives me a sad look. I'm going away from her. She'll be alone. She's very much like a little kid. All of her stories, remembrances of happy times are from her childhood. She seems not to have any good memories of the 33 years we've spent together. Somehow that doesn't sound right. Such is life.

Things are afoot, but I can't say anything. Such is life.

I am, at this moment, as close to the edge as I've ever been without taking those few more steps to where I can look down into oblivion. Such is life.

I was watching one of those PBS travel shows last night and the guy was in The Netherlands. He went to the Van Gogh Museum. I'd forgotten Van Gogh killed himself. Such is life.

When I get back from orientation and find out what my work schedule is going to be, I have to get with my psychologist or whoever is available in the office and set up an appointment. I don't like being like this. Such is life.

Of course, at my age, with body functions increasingly focused on the end game, thinking about dying is probably just as good as dying. I've read stories about people who just might have done that very thing. You can, after all, talk yourself into a lot of things. But, I don't want to. I have lots of stories left to write. Such is life.

Oh, by the by, if you can't wait until the chapters are posted here, go to The Story Cove for the latest on The Pastel Cowboy. All chapters up to 18 are ready for your reading pleasure. I'm working on Chapter 19, but it's going slow as someone dies in this chapter. It's inevitable. Has to happen. Chiseled in granite. "Thou shalt die so that the boy may live." Only, I haven't decided if the boy is going to live. In Chapter 20, Zach will meet the man who just may be the death of him, but not necessarily a physical death. I might spare him, but leave him as a blathering idiot in some mental institution. Or, being young and having sidestepped death before, he might come out of it with only a few scars. But, if I kill him, how can I have a happy ending. I have to have a happy ending. Poignant is nice, but happy is better. Of course, poignantly happy is better still, but those endings are rare.

Well, the day is upon us and things have to be done so I can go away for a few days.

You know what would be nice right now? A dick. It be nice, too, if the person on the other end of said dick was a good guy who understands some people just need a dick now and then to keep them going. Of course, I'd want said dick to be a familiar dick, don't want no strange dicks in my life. And, it can't be a smoking dick, either. And, it definitely better not be a drippy dick. Don't have to be a free dick, but it is better to have free and friendly than cold and expensive. Damn, wish I had some extra money, disposable money, you might say. Just enough to get a little dick. No, that's not little as in size, 'cuz we're all basically size queens, but little as in momentarily available for whatever you had in mind.

Damn, I feel better already. Nothing like a dick to get your day going.