Today is my first day back in SF with no visitors and nothing to do. . . well, I actually have so much to do but I can't seem to summon the energy. I spent a week in Seattle (what's up Washington homies!) and a weekend in Roslyn a couple weeks ago and then a week in sonoma at a training. T took a train down to wine country to meet me and by the time he did, I had the flu. A little more than a week later, I have the kind of cough that little kids get when they are processing through some nasty shit. The kind you overhear and think, "ooo, don't want to get to close to that person." Anyway, here it is a Saturday, it's beautiful and my wheels are spinning. When I think about trying to do work or do anything that requires some responsibility, I feel overwhelmed.

In one week I will not have a job. I will hopefully have a contract that gets renewed but I won't know until next week. Why do I feel so indifferent?