12/04/05 - 10:26 p.m.

It's been a good day. A good weekend, I guess.

I need to accept those everyday moments. Instead, I denigrate them. I tell myself what's important is this ideal life I'm after, and the ideal me I'm going to try to pretend to be.

Besides the fact that that's never going to work, it's a real slap to the real me, and real life, for that matter. Maybe I don't like the new town where I'm living. But there are other towns I can amble on to. And if this job doesn't work out, there are other jobs, too..

There were times in my past where this live-only-for-that-ideal approach seemed to make sense. Lately I've been looking back at those moments. What inevitably comes up is the hopelessness behind them. Maybe the appeal of the ideal was that it made it seem like a solution was already present.

When you get somewhere else - another place, another time - and those problems are behind you... I think one of the things you regret is how you turned your back on yourself. Your perception; your connection with life.

What's the solution? I ask myself. Maybe looking for yet-another ideal, but this time a real one. Maybe the answer to the question is to stop asking the question. To savor those moments, as is.

"It's been a good day," I wrote. "A good weekend, I guess. I need to accept those everyday moments. .."

I tried some new restaurants, refilled some prescriptions, read a little bit, sent a Christmas card. Bought some stuff for my computer. Got my thoughts together.

Is the problem just that I don't organize my memories?!