A lesson in organization

It sounded like a really great idea. A bunch of us from work would rent a chalet in Fernie and go hang out for four days enjoying the sun, mountains, and refreshments. Who could complain about that? Apparently alot of people can complain about it. And, as a result, I am resigning my position of social convener for c-shift. The moral of the story is: let someone else take on the responsibility, and if you don't have anything nice to say don't say anything at all. Fortunately, it's not supposed to rain all weekend . . .

Maybe its the fall air blowing through, unresting the less-green leaves from their homes, that is causing the melancholy that is setting in. Or, perhaps it is just that place I have found myself in before of being on the verge of something amazing, and simply having to wait for it to happen. This restlessness is an uneasy one. Constantly questioning my decisions, not knowing whether to try to push forward or just wait and let the fruit ripen in its own time. Reminding myself all the way along that I am doing well, moving forward, and making choices that are going to move my life in the direction I have always wanted it to go. So why the doubt, the desire to fall back into what is comfortable, the unwillingness to accept that what is is good and strong? Incoherent rambling representing the blase apathy of my generation? Perhaps.

Or maybe I just have too much time on my hands . . .