Wednesday, July 23, 2003
Janine and I are getting restless. We grow weary of being slow-roasted by the desert sun, and besides, I don't live anywhere for more than 5 years. Never have, never will. Nearly 5 years ago, I threw everything I had in the back of a Chevy Celebrity and left my nifty beach house in Florida for Tucson. Now I'm looking for jobs all across the country, and hope to up stakes and mosey along before the September 17th anniversary. Except I have to think of a similarly cool, possibly less Kerouacian way of moving. U-Hauls are lame, and my accumulated stuff won't fit in the back of a Chevy anymore, let alone a Jetta. One of the positions I'm aiming for is in Baton Rouge, and I think the idea of having a cajun accent is freakin' great! Of course, considering I got out of West Virginia without picking up the twang, I should count my blessings that my inflexions are pretty stable.