Okay, shit, I'm still alive

Between the actual job I have to pay the bills, and the freelance work on the side I tell myself will become my new career aside from the fact it still nets me at most beer money on the weekends, what free time I do have I prefer to not to spend on a computer. That said, I'm not happy with this development. Writing has been a hobby of mine for as long as I can remember, acting in part as momentary therapeutic vacations from the inanity of daily life, and also on some basic level as creative exploration. I never intended to use my words as a means to change the world, alter perceptions, or for any other doe-eyed, naively earnest endeavor. If I can raise a valid point here and there in between sharing stories ranging from the mundane to the extraordinary, I've already won. 

I'm not even sure, but I believe this is a my fourth attempt at a blog. There have always been long gaps of inactivity before eventual dismissal with previous attempts at blogging, thanks to whatever shiny objects distract me for lengths of time; be it women, new hobbies, you name it. The entire point of this blog was to, in some half-assed way, chronicle a move to a new city that I would honestly try to make my home for the foreseeable future. I have tried to be more consistent with my output; not for what handful of readers I have but for my own being, since the act of writing requires a level of activity from, and engagement with your brain and emotions that most daily tasks simply don't. Yet, sometimes life hands you either a fantastic new opportunity or a plate of steaming dog shit, and your priorities change.

My commitment to anyone who happens to be paying attention is that I think, think, I have a current handle on what the fuck I'm doing in my life at the moment to the point I can allocate some more time to this. I've done this sort of thing enough to tell you that it's not so much a matter of inspiration, as it is will, to keep going. Per usual, I expect the content to be of the meandering, anecdotal variety as opposed to anything remotely akin to a diary, since I'd rather carve hieroglyphics into my testicles than disclose details of my employment or sex life on such a potentially open forum...but...you probably knew that already.