I haven't posted in a while. I should say something.

I don't want to work at Tenaya. Nice, high-class places like that don't make any sense to me. I'd rather *clenches teeth* dig a trench. It pays well, good clean work, vacuuming, moving tables, setting them. It'd be perfect if it wouldn't drive me nuts. I know it would. First off, they'd make me shave my goatee, cut my hair, and dress in black and white, essentially taking away every bit of individuality I've got. Then they'd put me in a building all day, confined like a prison. And to top it all off, if all that were not enough, I'd be around...tourists. Rich people who can afford to stay at Tenaya. People who don't care a whit about the natural beauty of this place. I love 'em, but I don't like 'em.

The ruminations of a local Oakhurstian. I'd rather spend a morning in the cool of the High Country than in some puffy, froofroo bed.

I may be broke, but I've still got my dignity. And I've still got Jesus, He'll never leave me. He's all I've got to be satisfied with. And what a satisfaction is He. Even broke, I am blessed beyond measure. Well and truly blessed.

There is a path before me, but my eyes are closed. Am I too afraid to take a step? Or am I waiting for clarity? It's sometimes hard to tell the difference.