not for sale

After years of listless factotum jobs, starting over each time at the bottom rung of work and wage, being alternately bored, under-utilized, and shit on for money, I taught a group of middle-aged women yoga this morning.  And it was good.  It’s not the end of anything, I will still and probably always struggle to scrape my pennies together, but it’s a starting point, a destination.  For so long I’ve sat here with rocket parts and no reason to assemble them.  Now, in health and sobriety, regardless of whether it explodes on the launching pad, or sputters out in space, or veers off into the sun, I will put this thing together.  I have the parts; I always had the parts– what I lacked was clear skies and a destination.  It’s time to find out what this thing can really do.

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