I am reading Desert Solitaire by Edward Abbey. Between this book and living vicariously through Sibbitt's blog, I have begun to yearn for the wild open spaces. Now might be an opportune time, since I was fired from my position as warehouse-boy at the end of December and Arizona State University now has snipers atop every parking structure where they sit patiently and roll cigarettes with stale tobacco and strips of paper from "Wanted" posters with my face on them.

I've been sustaining myself by doing carpentry for local playhouses. I'm not terribly good at it, but I'm learning. And not just carpentry, but also lighting and sound and welding and even some modern dance. (You want to see jazz hands? I can show yoos all some jazz hands.)

The work is varied and plentiful and the hours are odd enough that I think I could thrive on this. It also provides a certain degree of flexibility in the schedule. Sort of. Once on a job, I could be on that job for most hours of the day for days at a stretch. But once it's done, I have no commitments. I could sniff around for work that might pop up in a week or two and then wander off into the desert for a while.

Maybe. I'm going to do a bit of wandering tomorrow morning. I can think of no better place to read Desert Solitaire than in the desert.