So I was at the gym last night, sweating like a mofo and trying to figure out the FM tuner on my brand new cutting-edge-if-it-were-2003 mp3 player. I stumbled along on the treadmill, trying to simultaneously stay upright as well as figure out how to do anything other than autoscan for stations when an ad came on which I’d never heard before.

It was for some sort of circus-themed weekend festivities. At the Hustler Club.

What?

There were mentions of trapeze acts, a special Hustler Ringmaster, circus foods, and also…wait for it…  “sexy clowns”.

No. Nuh uh. No way.

Clowns are not sexy. Clowns cannot be sexy. Clowns are terrifying.

Clowns, it is widely agreed upon, exist solely for the purpose of killing young children in terrible, nightmarish ways. Clowns think puppies are pretty tasty too. Clowns have been known to hide under your bed waiting to grab any dangling limbs while you sleep. Clowns are agents of the damned whose only goal is to brutally attack all that is good and honest and pure.

Sexy? I don’t think so.  I can think of nothing more traumatic than combining boobies (which are good) and clowns (which are scaaary).

So have fun, people who are attending circus weekend at the Hustler Club.  While you’re having your soul sucked out by one of the garishly-painted Unforgiven, I’ll be safe and sound in my gloriously clown-free home.

So, I don’t really feel rewarded or fulfilled by my job.

I really don’t think I would be rewarded or fulfilled by anything that I went to school to study.

I want to try something new.

But what?

And what am I qualified to do?

I keep waiting for a flash of inspiration.

…

…

Yup.

Still waiting.

Jesus.

It’s been hard to find my way here lately. Alot’s been going on. Some of it good, some of it bad, and some of it scary. The sum of all that though is the fact that I’ve just been mentally…umm…busy for the last few days.

The weekend was pretty fun. Friday after work we went over to Ben’s house for a little BBQin’, a little boozin’, and a little socializin’. Me a few new people, got to talk about sailing (which I rarely get to do), and ate a burger. (and by “a” I really mean “two”. Ok, fine, and an italian sausage too)

Saturday Emily and I went to the stationary store and ordered our wedding invitations. After, we drove to DC to visit some friends. Good times were had by all. 7 bottles of good times.

Sunday, said friends took us to the Udvar-Hazy annex to the Air & Space museum out at Dulles Airport. –Awesome– So many cool planes and so much aeronautical geeking out to do. I was able to throw out a few key tidbits about a few of the displays and further cemented my reputation of “that guy that knows a little bit about a ton of different things”. You know, just the way I like it.

Sunday evening came and went. And then it was back to work.

And work, big surprise, has been sucking lately. It hasn’t been as bad this week as it was the last 2, but still. Some days I feel like I can really see the thin line between sanity and you know, not. My job, quite honestly, sometimes pushes me right up to that line.

So there’s that. And then there’s Mom.

Mom felt under the weather on Saturday. Mom called me on monday to tell me that she spent all day Sunday in the ER. Mom has all the symptoms of meningits, but none of the viruses or bacteria that cause it. Mom has had headaches so blindingly bad that, earlier in the week, she was hallucinating. And the doctors don’t know why.

She goes in for more tests tomorrow and can now, at least, keep food down and isn’t sensitive to light or noise anymore. But the headaches and neck pain are still there. And the doctors don’t know why.

This weekend is our fam’s beach weekend. Mom has doctor’s visits to stay home for. Stepdad is staying home with Mom. G’Ma is tired from lots of activity lately; she’s staying home too. So it’ll just be the “kids”. Me and Em. Sister and broInLaw. Law and Order. (cousin is a lawyer and her husband is a cop). Cousin Pete. And it’ll be fun. It’ll be awesome, in fact. Just us yung’uns cursing and being sloppy, and staying up late.

But it’ll be weird because Mom won’t be there. She’ll be home; laying in bed and feeling like hell. And the doctors don’t know why.