It was a long walk down to the railyard, but a walk of great pleasure. I was expecting rain and had my umbrella with me, but it never did. I sat on the old bench next to the tracks where Ferret slept during his first stint at homelessness. This bench has been there since I was a child and was also a favorite place to sit and railfan then.
Trains passed as I sat and read the latest issue of Model Railroader. Grand dreams played out in my head of model rail empires in my spare bedroom. Little toys for big boys is what I thought as I sat and read. This great feeling of joy washed over me as I sat. I truly don't have a care in the world or any responsibility. The day was my oyster and open to all possibilities. Many of my blogging friends are rife with responsibility -- their time so constrained. I am a very lucky man.
I tried to make it home in time to drive to the noon AA meeting in Lagrange, but didn't make it. I would have been late to the meeting and anyone with social anxiety abhors walking into a room full of people late. There was also a nasty message on my answering machine from the social worker out at county mental health. The decision not to go was probably one of the more major decisions I have made in years -- almost as major as deciding not to drink. My whole financial world would have been turned upside down by signing on the dotted line. My finances combed over with a fine toothed comb. Yes, I would have gotten money, but it would have been at a steep price to pay -- the price of alienating my father after such feelings of goodwill lately.
I am now turning my thoughts to having some direction to my life. Not having any responsibility can be a blessing and a curse. I thought of driving to Goodwill and offering my volunteer services. I also still have the library to try, but our local library is so small that I don't see them needing volunteers. It wouldn't hurt to ask, though. I looked online and there are loads of volunteer opportunities an hour to the north in Atlanta, and those are just out of my reach. Alas, there are none here.