I am no longer sure who I am writing for. My life has in many ways become less interesting since Teaching Drum, and even less interesting since massage school. Now I live a life not so similar from many other people in this country. My fiancee and I have just rented an apartment, and our car is currently in the shop; we’re in the process of accumulating furniture to fill up the apartment, and have to deal with bills and payments and a refrigerator that doesn’t shut off and freezes everything. Right after moving in, we cleaned the carpet and treated it with something that’s supposed to keep it from outgassing — new carpet, we learned after signing the lease, has lots of toxic chemicals in it from its manufacture.

Today I went back to college. In a way I never left school; I graduated from Stanford and went right to Teaching Drum, and then to the College of Natural Healing, and here I am again. I’m only taking a couple of classes, as prerequisites for learning Oriental medicine.

My next big thing will probably be to find a job; and unlike most people in America my age, I’ve never really held a solid job. My only paying work was tutoring SAT a few years ago. Now I’ll be facing the work situation in full, and that is a scary prospect. I won’t be able to put my massage skills into practice, because New York is one of the few states in which my New Mexico schooling won’t be valid, thanks to licensing laws that require a thousand hours of training.

I have some activities to ponder the worth of doing. Maybe I’ll try to start up a part-time energy healing practice, or do some tutoring. I’d like to learn some archery, and maybe get into woodworking. Abigail wants to take a ballroom dance class, to have fun and prepare us for the wedding. Projects, projects …