Sunday, February 27, 2011


It's Oscar night and I'm angry. The two have nothing to do with one another; it's just happenstance. But what little interest I would have had in the Oscars has dissipated, transforming into acrid steam that is swept into the air, but not swept away.

I won't play out my anger here, except to say my plans have been turned on their heads. What I thought was a breakthrough decision apparently wasn't a joint decision. Apparently I thrust it upon the world.

So, now I bide my time and wonder what "my" decision will be in a month. Or a year. I'm angry. Maybe I'm angry at myself and my failure to plan and my failure to comprehend and my failure to get it in writing.

I'm so close to burnout I can taste the ashes.

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