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four days off Most of my Sunday morning at work was spent reading my latest issue of the New Yorker, where the topics ranged from the current status of the Russian government with Putin coming into power to the film career of Martin Scorsese. I have yet to read about Sylvia Plath and the release of her journals, but I did read the review of Julia Robert's new film Erin Brockovich which I haven't decided as to whether or not I want to see or not. I like Julia as a personality, but I think that she plays the same person in every film. I know that I have said it before, but I think that it is this variety of topics that makes me truly love reading the New Yorker. More after I eat some breakfast and take a nap. When I woke this afternoon, I felt alone for the first time in months. Nothing physical had changed, but I didn't feel the same. My house seemed cold and empty and I knew that I had to leave. I needed to be with people that I cared about and that cared about me, so it was good to go visit my parents and siblings. The yodelling album was a success. On Saturday I had started to question what I was doing with my life. Once again I wondered if I had done enough or if I hadn't pushed myself. Here I am seven years out of college working for six of them in a field that has nothing to do with my major. Over time I had come to believe that that was enough, but now I am starting to wonder if I want something else. Now I have four days to ask myself some of those questions and maybe just maybe I'll find some answers to them.
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