I’ve been “working” on my history assignment for about an hour now. I have one question answered. One of eight isn’t too bad.
Home this weekend was good. My father, even though he somehow hurt his back, was in good spirits, and as usual acted like a child. When Michael or I would ask a question, he would respond with either saying something outlandish (“Michael. You should be a preacher!”) or singing (“Emma-lyy, Emma-laa, Emma-lee, Emma-laa-ha-ha-ha-ha!”) I also got to see Amy and Nichole (and Nichole’s new puppy) both of my brothers, my mother, father, and dog. I also saw some other old friends. Mom told me her Hep is gone after a year of treatment. That made me very, very happy.
On the drive home, I listened to some Sounds Eclectic, and also some songs from the mid-90’s that I really liked as a kid. I still like them now.
Corey and I talked for a while tonight. We discussed living up to our potentials. The sad fact is: I’m not. That’s something I need to work on. That always reminds me of a framed saying my Aunt Becky had in their bathroom:
Isn’t it strange that princes and kings,
and clowns that caper in sawdust rings,
and common people like you and me
are builders for eternity?
Each is given a bag of tools,
a shapeless mass, a book of rules.
And each must make, before life has flown
a stumbling block or a stepping stone.
I’ve been given an opportunity to do some free lance video work with E103 Productions. Hopefully I’ll get some work with them to start living up to this apparent potential that I might have welled up inside. I sent my resume their way, and John remembers me from Building Dreams, so I take that as a good sign.
Right, back to answering questions about the Northwest Ordinance of 1787. I wish I had a desk in the apartment, I feel like I’d be able to focus better. I’ll just have to wait until next year.