I can't get drunk. No money, just coming off of cymbalta cold turkey, no way to get home, hangovers suck (and HOW they would suck in combination with the cymbalta withdrawal side effects!) and besides, I have to act like a responsible human being. Oh bother.

I don't know how the job interview went yet....I am no good at all at talking myself up. I do however, have a distinct advantage is versatility and being able to sub for multiple other workers if and when they call in sick. It will only be 2 days a week if I do get it, which at this point, is just as well.

The salmon are spawning, although not in the creek next to our house, yet. They are still energetic, zipping around quickly in the shallow water. They're so beautiful.

I still don't know what to do about long term goals and plans. If I got that degree, I would still want to farm on a small scale. It probably costs about the same, possibly a lot more to get the degree as it would to get the orchard started, but they don't have financial aid programs for struggling wanna be farmers. The truth of the matter is that I would probably be both more passionate and in a better mental state overall about farming, than if I had the MSW degree, assuming that I got a job I really liked. I don't like being slapped in the face everyday with the proof that other people don't like folks like me, that we have to pretend to be like the people who discriminate against us and make our lives more difficult than they have to be. That may sound like victim-speak, but I don't mean it that way. What I mean is, there are people who believe that I am fundamentally flawed and that my only (marginal) hope is to trot through life pretending to be normal, that who I am is not good enough, inherently not good enough. I don't want to surround myself with that. If we were talking about a Camphill Village, that'd be an entirely different matter.

And since I can't get drunk, I guess I'll go draw or something....