What was I writing about, again?

It's pouring outside. And lightning. It's a storm that, were I back home, would be dazzling. I'd want to sit on the porch and watch it, Coke in hand, with my parents. But, it's a daily occurrence here, so I just move on with my life.

Actually, I'm annoyed at the thunder that is so loud it shakes my apartment and the rain that draws in mosquitoes.

It's strange how something that used to be such a treat now has become a nuisance.

I was going to write about something interesting. Maybe something witty about my two weeks with Dengue fever. Or about that interesting Kurt Vonnegut essay I just read. Or about what I've learned about John Lennon and Phil Ochs lately.

Maybe later.

Right now I'm grouchy about the rain. And lonely. Worse than lonely. Afraid of being alone.

Well, time to watch Planet Earth, be dumbfounded by the greatness of the world around me and wish with my everything that I simply wake up in Omaha, Nebraska.