Waltzing Matilda

Well, I’m 25 today. That’s a quarter of a century. I should get a rocking chair and a red hat. I still have a lot to do before moving out. I have only applied for one job so far, but at least I’m gradually working my way out of the rut that is this month.

Whoever is still in town will meet for pizza tonight. Not many are left, though. It seems every week another person is gone. It reminds me of the time the static warp bubble gradually slimmed down the existence of the crew until only Dr. Crusher and Captain Picard remained. At any rate, if they try to sing that stupid birthday song to me at dinner, I will have to overdub them with the refrain to Waltzing Matilda. Don’t underestimate my ability to be obnoxiously loud.

And so, the final countdown of the Ohio epoch continues… I wonder what happens next? I don’t have any sense of stability. No solid footing for the next step. That’s what I get for majoring in music composition. Not long ago, a few of us were commiserating about just that, and I said, “Hey, at least we had the balls to chase our dreams.” Being a musician leads to a hazy future. Some people call it adventure. Others call it insecurity.

So what happens next?

”It’s a magical world, Hobbes ol’ buddy… let’s go exploring!”