A second birthday was today. It's been three years since my discharge, and I can't tell you what happened to the time. Married, divorced, and moved across the country two and a half times. Sounds like an exciting existence, but nothing could have been further from the truth (or Furthur, if you would).
So we come to it. Three years older and finally something beginning to show for it. I have never been so hopeful on an anniversary as I am on this one, in spite of the depression that's been plaguing my academic excursions. Nothing is certain, but I get the feeling that everything is going to be all right.
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Like the girl in the radiator says.
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