In The Clouds

All day long Ballistic Mountain has been in the clouds. It is misty and water flows in the roof gutter as if it is raining. That is common here. If the cloud is at your elevation, there is nowhere for the rain to fall, so moisture just clings to things and rolls where it can.

The San Diego climate is definitely unique. At the coast it is perpetually springtime. Move a few miles east and it alternates between summer and spring for most of the year with occasional cold snaps. A cold snap there is rarely below freezing.

Go another 10 miles or so east toward my locale and you get into semi desert heat, semi mountainous cold. If we are lucky maybe we'll get real snow. It rarely gets into the 30's but it happens. Go down the hill and head west a few miles and it warms up.

Overall it is almost too perfect. If it is overcast for more than four or five hours it has the same gloomy influence on mood that long fall and winter sunshine deprivation has on people in the northwest and other northern areas. It only takes a little variation from perfect for people to get anxious over heat, cold or rain. To an outsider, it seems trivial at first, but something about the place causes those variations to have more impact than you would think. Why rain induces this land of tailgaters to follow even more closely, I haven't a clue.

So, now that I am a citizen of the land of fruits and nuts, this bit of gloomy weather has taken its toll. Why am I here? Will I ever come to grips with the things I regret in my life? Will I ever quit fighting depression and the lack of direction? Will I ever quit finding excuses to be alone? I'm not sure I can answer yes to any of those questions, and believe it. But, I probably should not give up.

I've removed myself from good opportunity in all those things time after time. I wonder why. Along the way, I think the idea that I had to avoid my true nature became ingrained. The truth is that I am, in part, a gregarious, social being. My life over the last many years, and on and off for most of the time has been rather isolated and solitary. Almost all of it through my own doing or neglect. It has again begun to wear thin.

The answer can only be one thing: become a gigolo. That would bring in income and provide a social life as well. Noting that there may not be much market for someone whose youth is only a memory tends to put a damper on the plan. I am thinking of targeting the deaf, dumb and blind--not meant in any politically incorrect sense, you understand. The problem is what medium to use in order to reach this market.