Hope floats...

I'm not even sure why I posted that title, but let's see if I can work in. My blogging has been sucking of late, and I apologize. I feel like anyone who takes the time to read my blog, I owe them something; and something not-too-short of brilliance. Luckily, brilliance is subjective, and if I declare a piece brilliant, then by golly, brilliant it is! Unless it really sucks. But, no matter. Hope floats. So, as you see how I brilliantly carve a blog out of nothing--this week, I am filled with hope. That's right, the floating kind. Last week, I was really in a foul demeanor. Like, almost a Sylvia Plath-level funk. All hope seemed to be gone, and your ol' pal Shooey's usually optimistic manner was as scarce as a telephone booth. Luckily, I got a really good message from The Almighty this past Sunday, and when I taught the Sunday school kids, the lesson was so applicable to my life.  It lifted my head out of Sylvia Plath's oven and back to the optimistic world of floating hope.  I picked up a little freelance work, I'm making headway on my screenplays and writing projects, and I'm fully committed to my "Little Cabin in the Woods" plan. (Either referred to as 'Camp Shoehead 2.0', or 'Uncle Shooey's Cabin'. Not sure which I like better. Maybe both.)  My job is crazy. Prowling the aisles of Home Depot trying to get people to have a salesman--I mean, water technician to come to their house.  Luckily, this is a stop-gap job. Not at all a career move. I do like the company I work for, and the people are very nice.  So, it could be better, but it could be a lot worse. And just for laughs, if you see me lurking the Home Depot aisles looking for prey, chances are I'll look something like this:

Have a great week, my good and faithful readers! Be well, and don't eat the brown acid!