My kid has this shit figured out way more then I do. I’ve been here a week, and every morning at around 5:00, my oldest springs off her bunk bed. Clouds of dust form on the ceiling above my cot as her feet hit the floor. 45 minutes, she jogs circles around the house, followed by the dog, fifty pushups and sit-ups (still with the dog), and as long as her jump rope hasn’t become one of many unintended chew toys, she’ll do a few minutes of that before getting ready for school. Every morning. She wants to go to the Olympics in Judo. Only twelve,  so it’s a ways a way, but I think she really has a shot. 

Me on the other hand, find myself in a most uncomfortable situation. I’m 35, and currently living out of a backpack on my ex-wife’s basement couch. I wish I could plead ignorance and say I didn’t know how I got here, or that I had some market crash and massive layoffs to blame it on. No major injuries,  or catastrophic environmental displacement. Not even a fun drug habit. I just fucked up. Took a $80k job, most of my friends, relationships, and nearly all my possessions... I just didn’t want to do it anymore...then.  In hindsight my choices my have been... misguided. I’m kinda stuck now. 

I don’t know if this is a way of me working this all out, or just transcribing my final demise. I’ll let you know.