![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEm_TYet4Utc0eDqpG5n57e32BshZ3abnSIKvgPRIlBssni6EPQHzUgnVAPjVHsZPZOBwmmEFWtKVyN9RWM_GiUj9RezztHZMxNvqhKJq9n_U7-_1mAJLGYiiG7nlzdI5r6zfeNkNzxwmb/s200/05.jpg)
Just threw all my stuff in a truck and moved down to Charleston. Oil spill free beach life, oyster nights, fresh air havin' change.
Looking through some past entries from blogs of interest, I feel crippled. I'm not so productive, or outgoing, or charitable, you know? There's a chance to change that sure, but I feel so far behind. I have millions of things or ideas that I want to do but I don't like working independently to some extent, or at least not in a room alone scratching away. I wanted to turn off for a bit after graduation instead of eating asphalt, dazed and swatting at reality buzzards in that vast, empty desert Fred Burton talked so much about (like I am now). The paranoia has set in, for sure. Can I please make drinks for a while and run food so I feel worth a minimum wage when I get home?
Anyway, this would be much easier if I wasn't alone here.