like a rolling stone

As best as I can tell I move, and have moved, a lot. Born in Ohio in August of nineteen hundred and seventy-five, but by early seventy-six I had relocated to Denver. Between '76 and '82 I relocated several times, to Texas, back to Denver, to the SF Bay area and back to Denver. Of course those moves were not so much my choice as my mother's, but that's a lot early on. I lived in Denver from 1982-2002... in (calculation time) no less than 10 houses and apartments (wow).

In '02 I moved to the pacific northwest, Portland more specifically... through a vile combination of poor planning, bad timing, and the god-awful post-911 (read "Bush") economy, my time there was cut short. I returned to Denver a bit older, a lot wiser, and much poorer. Que sera sera...

Since returning in December of '02 I have lived in (mas calculations...) 4 more places.

So what now? Back to Portland.

So much anxiety fills me... like, I won't be able to rest until I succeed where I once failed. And you know, I'll do better. And I know I'll do better... But yeah, the anxiety's there.

Gave my notice at my job yesterday, and get to tell my group tomorrow... piles of weirdness. And now I get to do the thing I hate worse than most anything else I can think of right now: look for work. I have a couple leads, but nothing's firm.

Shit...

What do you get when you cross brass balls with immense fear?