About to put today in the rearview mirror.
Last night I dreamt of San Diego in the rain. Not mist and light rain like I've seen, more like a heavy, constant downpour. I had completely forgotten about the dream, until I emerged from the condo this morning to see two contractors gazing at the roof. They mentioned they were working on fixing the leaks before the rains came. Even though I had no idea about any leaks in the building, I feigned recognition and felt happy for the trigger to my dream retrieval.
Can't believe I didn't get a call back for the bartending gig I interviewed for on Saturday. Their candidate review meeting was yesterday, so I didn't make the cut. That annoys me, as I would be a huge asset to them, but it is not to be. There's a grand plan for me out there, I don't know the design but I'll keep pushing forward. My success here will be stronger without their involvement.
Last night I decided to try and focus on my goals, and allow the path to take shape. I can't determine the path, but vision will carry me forward. Instead of beating myself up for each thing that falls through and goes nowhere, I must stay calm and know that all of these fits and starts are leading me towards my destiny.
On another note, it's amazing how much different Southern California looks at night. Once the sun sets, it is a world of sparkling lights. And in San Diego that's all reflected by shimmering waves. I drove around tonight for a little while simply to try and familiarize myself more with the area. As I was getting ready to head out, at a time of claustrophobic consternation, the network stalled (as it often does) and I wasn't about to wait it out just to send out yet another job email. This means that I didn't play Gino Vanelli's "I Just Wanna Stop" on my iPod. I headed out the door. Driving west on the 8 I started scanning the radio and quickly found, you guessed it, "I Just Wanna Stop." Thank you for your ethereal persistence, Gino.
Of course I sang the hell out of the chorus, and this is great music to listen to while driving as the sun sets into the ocean. Once I made it down to Mission Beach it was dark, and suddenly I connected to my memories of going out here back in 2008. Though I'd been in exactly the same place a half dozen times in the past few weeks, I never recognized it during the day. Once night had fallen, the memory returned, another recall for the day.
Mission Beach is bright and alive at night. During the day I'd describe it as rather scuzzy. I walked down to the beach, passing a family here on vacation. The father was walking in front of me with his daughter. His wife behind me their son, who was about six.
"Do you want to learn to surf?" she asked.
"Yeah," he replied.
"So you want to be a surfer and live in California?"
"No I want to live in Chicago," he corrected her.
"Well you can't surf in Chicago," his mother told him.
"I want to live in Chicago and visit California to surf," he clarified with alacrity. I couldn't contain the smile on my face. I like that kid.
For the rest of the drive I listened to the Padres/Dodgers game. The Padres radio announcers are very annoying, very West Coast, very surface. When they said, "Vicente Padilla's first shutout since 2008 with the Rangers. Even though they're having a great year I sure bet they wish they could have him back!" Believe me, Jerry Coleman, they don't: http://www.dallasnews.com/sharedcontent/dws/spt/stories/DN-ranglede_08spo.ART.State.Edition2.4c0f5a4.html
Time to retire, read another chapter of Siddharta and see what tomorrow brings.
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