I had nothing really to write about (again) until I got out of the shower and checked my phone and saw that the Division of Fire called me, so I called them back and found out that there’s a fire in Arlee, but since I was a measly 7 minutes late in returning the call, they filled my spot with someone else. Part of me is relieved, but the other part of me isn’t, and I don’t know which feeling is the strongest.
The only reason why I want to fight fires right now is because of the money. The last fire I was on was a very bad experience, one I don’t think will repeat itself, but one that left a bad taste in my mouth nonetheless. I don’t feel like being pulled away from my life right now, especially when things are going relatively well for me. I’m cooking so much more now, and I love that. I’m working out again, and I can notice the changes in me. I’m reading a lot more, especially since I’m more disciplined when it comes to my time wasted on the internet. And I’m about a month away from starting the rewrite on my novel, and I’m just now beginning to plan for it. I’m also meditating again, which has helped out a ton, in both my focus and well-being. All these things are good and beneficial, and I don’t want to leave it. Hell, today was strange in that I actually loved living where I live, mostly for the things I’m discovering I can do but haven’t yet done.
But then again, I need the money. I really need a quick influx of a few thousand dollars. It won’t pay off my debts, but it’ll help me get started, especially after all the repairs to my car I’ve had to pay this year. And I love firefighting and camping and hanging out with my bros. It’s fun. The whole experience of it is fun, and no matter how well my life seems to be going now, I know I can’t provide it the level of fun firefighting brings. So I’m sitting on my couch, my phone next to me, hoping that someone drops out or something, and that the Division of Fire calls me and asks me if I would like to go out on a fire. But I doubt it.
So I need to take my mind off of it and write the rest of this entry. Other than a few random visitors that found my blog on Google, no one has read my blog in a few weeks. Nobody has read my tech-y articles or those few posts on my cooking endeavors, and I feel alone over here. Part of me can’t wait until I have to stop worrying about that, about readers, or how many stats my site is getting. It’s all a distraction. I have my pocket moleskine on my desk waiting to be opened up and written in once all this ends in a month. This blog was a godsend when I started it last year, but now, it seems to have both outgrown me and that I’ve outgrown it. 36 more days to go.