Nobody's Fault But Mine

I think I am done with church for now. I get more mental, spiritual, and moral stimulation from reading by myself than I do from listening to a middle-aged man read a sermon. And I don't have any desire to find myself a new church at this point in time. This doesn't particularly bother me in any significant way. I will miss chatting with my great-aunt Marilyn and reading the bible during the sermon, but I am quite capable of doing at least one of those things while sitting in the basement, and the other can be done when I am landscaping for her this summer.
Glad to have that issue resolved.

I have four finals, two written assignments, and one twenty minute video to splice together during this last week of the school year. That doesn't seem to be a daunting task, and I am glad to be getting done a few weeks before all of my other college-aged breathren. This means that I will get to do a couple of visits.
This end of school will also allow me to get back to training for fighting. At least that activity is capable of distracting my constantly churning mind for short periods. I don't think I value the violence so much as I enjoy the physical exertion. I get a lot of the same feeling from running with deer in the woods, but the opportunities for deer-human running partnerships are few and far between. Plus, the woods will be overly hot and sticky soon enough, and fighting can supplement my income while helping me to make connections for other opportunities as well.

I am in the midst of a splendid biography of Whitman. I really should be doing some of my reading to prepare for my various finals, but my growth from this experience is likely to be more noteworthy than anything my moderism and postmodernism course has left to teach me.

Back to Weezer, Josh Turner, Keith Urban, The Sounds, Johnny, and Marving Gaye (I guess those are my music endorsements for the day).

Peace.