I haven’t written in a while. In short, I haven’t had time. Over the past month I’ve bought a house, found out my stomach doesn’t work right, moved cities, wrote up documentation for an industry conference and a software release. All in all I’d call this a pretty busy month.
As I write this I’m at a friend’s house. I’ll be staying here for the next couple of nights, since I no longer have a place to call “home” in south Florida, officially having moved out of my apartment of four years yesterday afternoon. (Moving was an adventure in itself, one I’d rather never repeat.) Friday night I’ll expect to be in Land O’Lakes, finally enjoying my new home, and unpacking. I guess I’ll be doing that last one for a while, though. Who knew we could pack so much crap into a one-bedroom apartment?!
Being totally transparent here, I’m not entirely sure where I want to take this post. My mind’s off in a thousand places right now, recalling memories from a long ago past which, for some reason, have resurfaced during this tumultuous time, maybe to teach me a lesson, or because things going on now mimic things that went on in the past. For example, right now I keep thinking about this summer’s Montana vacation (particularly our time in Cody Wyoming, which had an unusually large population of extremely attractive Russian and Ukranian women) and about a trip to Disney I took last year along with The Wife and my parents, siblings, and niece. Maybe being in a bed that’s not my own is making me recall these.
In order not to bore you, I’ll stop here. I’ll resume a more regular writing schedule as soon as I settle down in the new place, when I can finally sit down for longer than just a few minutes and when I actually have a reliable Internet connection.
(As for the title, I’m sure anyone who’s read the first book of Stephen King’s The Dark Tower series (The Gunslinger) will be familiar with that line, which is my favorite from my favorite book in the series.)