The blank page, or screen, truly is one daunting son of a bitch. I've been sitting here for quite a while now trying to think of what to write and nothing really comes to mind. Things continue as before...work, home, work, home, work, and so on with no real distractions, the days and weeks and months just sliding by until I look back and see all that has happened around me while I've been been working, or sleeping, or drunk.

Well, this is in danger of slipping into a rant, and that's not what I want to do. Been doing too much of that lately, but it has helped me to see that maybe I don't need to stay in this little mountain town for the next five years (that's when the cafe is paid off), maybe I can do two more and then sell, make enough to move and start again somewhere else. Then again, I should probably just push through and get the damned thing done. I've already got two could-have-been-retired dates behind me, and another coming up. I think I'll stick this one out and see what happens.

I know that I need to find something outside of work that inspires me, because work no longer does, the restaurant is like an infant that will never learn to wipe its own ass, or an extremely high maintenance spouse, and I'm just fucking tired of it all...the constant repairs, scheduling headaches, financial juggling, employees who don't give a shit, and don't even get me started on the customers. There I go on the rant again.

On the upside, I am sitting in bed typing this stone sober. No, I haven't quit, but this is the first night in quite a while that I'll be falling asleep as opposed to passing out, and that's a start.