Status report: DSL: down; land line: down; cel: up!

So apparently only one thing can work at a time, or some such shit. This weekend, my cel phone was not working, leaving me completely isolated from the outside world, except for the Internet. Of course, now that my cel phone is working again, the DSL craps out. (The land line has been non-functional for a while now.)

I am, surprisingly, at peace. Though, I suppose, it is the archetypal tranquility of the damned. Because I have this feeling of certainty, that either I'm going to make it, or I'm not. Simple as that.

Ah, fatalism. How liberating.

But seriously, except for the occasional panic attack whenever I have to actually do something productive (which, I admit, I probably should see a psychiatrist for), I am doing pretty good. I mean, sure, I still haven't sat down and made that all-encompassing list. (I have made a list, and have in fact checked off a couple of tasks here and there, but I know that I am surely missing a million things from it, things that will likely mean my doom if they do not get done in a timely fashion. Such is my life.) Sure, nothing has really changed, nothing at all, except for my attitude. But it's a start.

(As an aside, I find it so much easier to give advice, than to take it. Even if it's the very same advice that I give. Ah, me. The irony.)

I am learning to be alone, and liking it. Except for some prickly moments here and there (the aforementioned panic attacks, see above), I feel no pressure. I don't have to talk to anybody I don't want to. I don't feel driven to pursue any possible leads. I'm just OK with where I'm at. Floating in my comfort zone. The closeted type A personality in me has been sedated with chloroform, tied up, and gagged. No superego parent tape yelling at me. I am my own man right now, for ill or for good, and if you don't like it, well, you can kiss my ass. I am the master of my own, however limited, domain.

I am also growing to appreciate my introversion. Despite learning some of the act of the extrovert, it's true that you can't deny your own nature. It's true that I need to be alone to recharge, that I need time to work through my thoughts, that I can't just always be go, go, go. I mean, sure, I go out as often as I can, but not for the same reasons that extroverts go out. I go to observe, to spectate, to soak in the feeling of excitement permeating the air. I don't actually do anything. (That is, I just don't try to pick up on chicks. I can't handle it. It's not me.) Going out is invigorating in the same way speed or cocaine is invigorating (not that I've ever tried either.) It feels good for the moment, but eventually, your body catches up to you, and you crash. So this is how I know I really am an introvert.

That, and the fact that so many people, people who have the patience to actually try and get to know me, are surprised to find that I am in fact capable of beauty and wonder. That I have a good, happy side. It's just well hidden, revealed only to a select few. You should be honored. (Hah!)

But yeah. I know that everything will be OK. Which ever way it goes. Because things will either kill me, or they won't. Outside of this, there really is nothing to worry about. And even this is not worth worrying about, because, well, when it's time to go, it's time to go. Worry is a sad, sorry way to spend your time until that hour comes.

I am just chillin'. And if nothing happens, nothing happens. And, if perchance, something in fact does, well, I'll run with it, and see where it goes. But I will not seek it out.

I have a feeling I'll know what I'm looking for once I find it. Until then, there's a lot of life to live.