Valley of Ashes

I've felt odd, driving through the falling ashes and wishing the smell of fires in the air had more to do with the campfires I can't help thinking fondly of than the burning homes of displaced families that they actually represent, but part of me can't help appreciating the almost supernatural effect... Somehow it seems like something that only happens in L.A., belonging in a jaded movie script looking wryly at Hollywood's moral Satanists.

Yes, as you may or may not be able to see, I haven't quite escaped the clutches of the October blues that have haunted me since Chris, who would have turned 31 last Friday, died seven years ago. Unfortunately, I've finally realized that a motivating force for my clockwork depression at this time of year includes its inconvenient timing as the first six-week grading period of every school year, but I really thought I had kicked it this year as I celebrated the twenty-pound mark of my weight loss and laughed through the stress with students who can finally appreciate my sense of humor again. I even almost successfully convinced myself to be grateful that my brand new Sophie Rabbit got hit just after I finally had enough money to actually drive around with insurance again (don't ask...) rather than the disaster that would have ensued if old Gilbert the Golf had been nailed just months before, but I couldn't keep smiling when the bastardly insurance companies refused to grant me the deductible refund I deserve for the other fellow's fault in a collision where he tore out taking an unprotected left in front of me as I was all clear to accelerate through the intersection half a block forward so that I could enter the freeway there at a proper speed.

Anyway, my bitching session has now officially ended and, with that off my chest, it's time to go back to grading... My new full-time lover... I can hear my students groaning in disgust at THAT one...but I'll keep that bad joke to myself so as to remain in comedic graces on their stage.