I'm sitting here in a warm motel room after 3 days of working outside in temperatures less than 12 degrees, except for today when it peaked at 21 in the shade. I really fucking hate the cold. It agitates my arthritis, and now thanks to my accident a few weeks ago, my knee as well. And I'm not built for this artic environment "only the polar bears can hang here" shit. I'm far too skinny. My fingers go numb too soon and eventually things just lock up to where I can't use my tools. I'm in one of those depressing "woe is me" moods trying to figure out why I keep coming back for this. I have no children, I have no wife. There will be no sea of mourning faces at my funeral. My reasons for the path I've chosen to take vanished long before I'd ever actually started this path. But, it is the path I chose, and I knew how it would be.
The paycheck is good, but the cost of the gig is varied. I'm in my 30's now and I have no real home. I have an apartment I go and visit for one week once every two months or so, and I have too many people I know that I have nothing in common with and can't really relate to waiting back there. At 31 years old I am still trying to find my place in the world and people to share it with.
Fucks sake, I need a new train of thought...
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