Not pleased.

I’m angry that I’ve come here. I’m angry that I’ve brought my family here for what is turning out to be the same-shit-different-job. I’m angry that the prospects are slim. Angry that Lyn mentioned this in DC and I shrugged it off. Angry ’cause I knew she was probably right and did it anyway. I’m angry that up until now I haven’t written about it ’cause I was afraid of who would read it.

I’m angry that everything costs 40% more this year. Everywhere. Everything.

I’m angry that a bunch of men and women who in any other profession would be considered ‘past retirement’ are holding powerful positions and have absolutely no idea what it’s like for the majority of us out here.

I’m angry that I’ve only now found the time to update this blog. Angry that I have to work all day and then come home and forgo playing with my kids and do more work. I’m angry that I’m tired all the time. I’m angry that sometimes I can’t leave it all somewhere else and my kids know it.

I’m angry that I’m hesitant to post this because of what people will say. I’m angry that I don’t have more balls.

I’m angry that the Pens won last night.

I’m angry that every time I fix something, 3 other things break.

I’m angry at the sheer volume of the fucking bugs this year.

I’m angry that it all gets to me and sucks the life out.

I’m angry that I sold my drums so many years ago.

I’m angry that this sounds like I’m complaining when I’m not.

I’m angry that at times in the past I’ve been less than honest in this forum ’cause I know who all my readers are.

I’m angry that anybody’s God – yours, mine, theirs – would see fit to allow suffering the likes of what innocent people in China and Burma and so many other places are seeing right now. I’m angry that I should do more, but I don’t or can’t.

I’m angry that Sam Roberts doesn’t have a tour date in the Maritimes yet. I’m angry that even when he schedules one, it’s highly unlikely I’ll be able to go for any of 347 reasons.

I’m angry that I haven’t been able to get on the bike in months.

Angry that there’s not enough time. Never enough time. For everyone – everything – that wants the time.

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