San Diego in Tampa

Yes, the hot weather just may be gone for the "winter." It is 58 degrees at ten am this morning, and only expected to reach 64: this means that I can work on yard things like digging and lifting and planting, and not reach temperatures near boiling. Of course, to do that, I must get out of my toasty bed, with quilt and electric blanket. 

I have learned that it does not take much to make me feel content: but that I do have certain minimums. I need a warm bed with pillows for sitting up, a table nearby to hold items from drinks to earplugs, a TV, books to read and a computer with the Internet. I don't need a car, or neat clothes, or special friends, or much else. I recall the song from MY FAIR LADY: all I want is a room somewhere, far away from the cold night air, with one enormous chair..." 

This lack of high expectations has made me a very non-ambitious person, very unconcerned with "winning" or "keeping up with the Joneses" or accruing a lot of money, collections or things of any nature. My discouraging habit of losing much of whatever I do have has contributed to this total lack of trying to accumulate any wealth. As a consequence, I do not respect those with wealth, or things, any more than I respect those without them. This brings me to the place where I have almost always been, that of a proletarian democrat who is not impressed by anything in the world beyond beauty and truth. 

I know that this lifelong attitude has made it impossible, so far, to find long-term comfort with a single man: once I get to know someone, and recognize serious flaws in his character, I am no longer "impressed" with him, and he senses that. The relationship goes rapidly downhill, from there, and I find myself in a room with nary a view, but a warm bed with TV and Internet.

I realized this two or so years ago, which was what sent me to nursing school with the plan of working in some exotic location, helping people, remaining single, and writing journals and recipe books. I was, temporarily, knocked off my schedule by the second cancer scare of my life, and, subsequently, thought that I might find my destiny with about, hmm, four fellows that I saw, in some random order. Alas and alack, those relationships only reaffirmed the wisdom of my original plan.

So, back in Tampa, with two roommates helping me keep my house going, I am formulating a new plan, with no hurry. 

In the meantime, I still have my room, my computer, and my TV.