The water-loving amphibians and reptiles are having a field day (night?) outside… It’s an almost deafening cacophony of ribbits, chirps, and croaks. Amazing. I think I’m going to sleep in the living room again so I don’t hear it as much.
The melancholy element weighs heavily upon me tonight. I found another great job possibility, but elbowing your way into a large company is difficult, and it’s halfway across the country anyways. How I wish the Winston-Salem possibility had worked out. Heck, how I wish my dreams didn’t seem to be perpetually on hold–my dream of being a missionary pilot. But what can I do? It takes a substantial amount of money to attend flight school, and I would need to buy all the tools besides (a pleasant activity, nevertheless). I need to clean the apartment and so give my mind an orderly environment in which to sit down and consider things. This is the part where I wish I had someone here to deliberate with me and muse the possibilities. I’m certainly not above advice; I don’t think I pretend to be, either.
I am about to take a shotgun to the frogs outside. How can I be depressed with all the croaking? *sigh*