I might be starting to do some research for my boss, which would be a step in the right direction. I need to get closer to the creative side of the business. He's already taken one of my 'routines' to use in a script of his (with my permission) and I hope to offer more. Slowly I will worm myself in closer to my goals, learn more, and grow. It is a plan with limitless possibilities.
I've realized recently that I've become more social than I thought I was. I'm still not your typical butterfly floating around and I still have not actually spoken to a woman I wasn't related to in my entire life, but I'm meeting people and establishing friendships slowly but surely. It's very odd for me but it's a good sign because it means that while it takes me time I CAN in fact change and break out of my established patterns. Back at the beginning of college, in '01, I was capable of having approximately one friend in my life at the time and I walked around very closed up and tightly wound. I wanted to change that and over the course of a few years I have managed to do so. I've also kept up on the toothcare better recently and I'm confident that the weight loss will come, although right now I'm sort of standing still in that arena. I also believe that my writing will improve as I continue to work on it and get the guts to join another group (The one I was in appears to have imploded after my piece with the racist character. Note to self, never use the word 'nigger' more than once in a given piece of writing. It works, but too well.) or a couple classes.
Even my optimism is a good sign. A really good one. I'm starting to believe that life is long, that it doesn't end at 35, and that there'll be time to eat a peach AND say what I want to. I can no longer safely be called a pessimist, except when it comes to women, but they're scary and cootie-ridden so that's probably a good thing. I mean people in the army should be pessimistic about roadside bombs too, right? (Not that I'm comparing women to roadside bombs, that'd be totally unfair. Roadside bombs never ask whether their ass looks fat in those pants. They don't even wear pants, they just explode.)
I really ought to go to work now laden down with books about Islam and start the big push. I meant it about writing less in here, but after my class ends I should at least have some creative/humorous pieces to post. There have been further developments in the step-brother saga, but unless people are desperate to know I'll update that in a couple weeks, by which time he may have 3 ex-wives and a $2000 a day heroin habit. This guy is really going all out to make his 23rd year on this planet one he won't forget.