Forgive the silence.

By the way, I've been blocked for a couple weeks, so I've not been able to update the blog as often as some readers may be accustomed (which makes me sound a bit egotistical).

I've been blocked because of minor things and major ones. Nothing in particular is really wrong with me, meaning there are no causes for concern. There's just a genuine reluctance I've had lately toward being happy, excited or motivated about anything I've been doing.

At the same time, you can only write that you don't like your job or that you feel unfulfilled in your life so many times before you sound like you're just blowing hot air and not really doing anything to fix the damn problems you've caused yourself.

I'm still messy.

I didn't write on the blog about the fender bender I got into two weeks ago.

I didn't write about my dip into depression really until just now.

Last night, Black asked me what I really wanted to do for a living and with my life. He said he'd help me any way he could, much as other nice people have offered, but that I needed first to tell him what field of work I really saw myself in.

My mother asked me the same sort of question a couple weeks ago, and she didn't like my answer then.

"I think I want to write a book," I said. "This job is dead-end, but I'd probably feel the same way at any other job. I mean, what's the point, really?"

My mother seemed irked, understandably, about my attitude.

Certainly, there's got to be some job that I want to do that I'd be good at.

Tonight at the Margaret Mitchell House, I met lots of curators and promotions people there who get to work developing book events and promoting authors, which seemed to me like it would be really fun to do.

Talking to Black, I told him that I've been curious about people in movie promotional campaigns, as well.

I avoided public relations classes in college, though, because I thought PR people were the ones who tried to control perceptions and what was written about certain topics. I figured they were the ones screening what information was released, and the whole thing seemed kinda shady.

I figured that PR people would spin Armageddon into a positive for headlines, like "Millions die: More air for everyone else."

Lately, though, it doesn't seem entirely as shady. Maybe because I'm not in newspapers, demanding answers to questions and trying to read between the lines. Maybe it's because I'm more into cultural happenings now, and I understand what it's like to know the best way to sell something to a consumer, how to change the message to suit a particular audience.

I've been a good writer. Now I'm a good salesman. How do I find the way to best combine these into a job that meets my interests and utilizes my talents? Is there a real job out there that does that? Is it one that I'm qualified for?

I don't want just any job. And I want to be able to see my life as something promising, something that allows for the occasional good and remarkable thing to happen.

I'm not asking for all-the-time happiness. I'm not that naive. I just want the possibility of good things to be in my mind and my mood more than it is currently.