I'm not used to this much stability

This entry is a day late, unless you count that essay on the other blog, in which case, this entry is right on time, but almost late anyway. I’m pretty exhausted tonight; I would blame grocery shopping after work and lugging over ten bags up two flights of stairs, but I didn’t sleep well the night before either (and had some strange dreams). I have thoughts I wanted to post here tonight, but I’m too tired to dive into them right now.

I’ve had more time to think about the midterms since Tuesday, and I’m a little less pessimistic, but it still feels like it’s only a matter of time before a plunge into true dictatorship and unprecedented massacres. Maybe I’m too invested in American politics: I know what happens south of the border impact us here in Canada, but I get a feeling of helplessness about it all because there’s so little I can actually do about it.

That said, I’ve been thinking more about my current situation, and I don’t think I’ve ever had as stable an existence as the one I’m living right now. I’ve been in my current apartment since I moved to Halifax six years ago; as much as I complain about the remote location, I’ve lived here continuously longer than I’ve lived anywhere else. Work’s as stable as it can be without being in a permanent position, and definitely not quite as precarious as it was for many years here.

Maybe I should start dating, but that’s another entry.