Spy Jealousy

I really, REALLY like spy movies and tv shows... why is this? I'm not too sure, but I think it's because of the "hurry-up-and-wait" lifestyle. Not the typical motivation for spy fantasy, I know... But seriously, I sure as heck wouldn't mind living a deep cover in Your-Mom-istan for 18 months just to collect a mysterious package on the second Tuesday in December at a small bookshop on 12th Street. Be nice to catch up on whatever language they speak there, ya know? Maybe I could find a favorite neighborhood deli and get a job there, just for the free salami on wheat. Perhaps I could play chess in the park with an old man every day for a week. Then there's always the idea of purchasing a small motor scooter and cruising the countryside on days when it's not raining. Ah, why do I bother? No one reads this blog, anyway.

HardWorkLazyGoHome

Got back from MO, had a week in which I accomplished less than half of what I had wanted, and then headed to camp... Looooooong drive, long odds, long friendships, long memories, long nights, long looks, long dreams, long way home, long year ahead. Now I feel I'm trapped between exhaustion and task-orientation, the need to rest and the need to move, this undiscovered, undefined, and as-yet-unverified passion and that one. I can't harmonize to this melody, if anyone would even call it that. God, where's the music in all this?