The Storm Before the Lul

One thing I never expected at Salt was to have time. But it seems as quickly as it began, the stories that have filled my proverbial sails have begun to luff. I find myself with enough time to shuffle out of bed, shower at a reasonable pace, make coffee at home, consider applying for an internship, and even sit and think thoughts.

This is how the wind leaves ones sails:

Your subject goes in to rehab and you are told politely but firmly that you cannot follow or have any contact for two weeks by the powers that be at said rehab center.

Your subject continues to do very little and then you are told by the subject's significant other that one of two story angles should not be pursued because it would be both unpleasant and because your subject's personality is perhaps a large part of the problem of why there is a conflict. And you suspected this but it is now confirmed.

Your subject lives far away! Its hard to drive three hours one direction and not devote at least 12 hours documenting the goings on of that life. Oh, and your car is all screwed up.

I'm sure or at least hoping that the next time a I write I'll be up to my neck in goings-on, and that this post will seem a silly and premature concern about things not turning out. However when you are here it is easy to, at times, worry quickly, panic completely, and feel like you could take on the world. But when you start out throwing yourself into something full force only to find that even then there are situations and events you can't control, there are people that will stop you, and so many unforeseen circumstances, the deceleration of the momentum you expected becomes a lesson in itself. And that's one I never considered.