I took the one less traveled by.

Arnegard. Alexander. Mandaree.
Cold toes, and buzzing head.
Some people just know how to work.




TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;        

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,        

 And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.        

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.        

I took the road less traveled by.  That's why in the two and a half years since returning from south america, I've been nothing but restless. I've been wandering around, here and there, not really putting down any roots in any one place.  

I find myself at three in the morning, strolling down a muddy road to the mechanic shop, reminiscing with Steve and Little Doug about life and shenanigans, concerts and old girlfriends.  It's been raining pretty much non stop for the last several days here. The mud is really deep around here, but at least the fog has let up.  

Doug proceeds to fix the broken exhaust hanger on the left side of my truck. It's been broken for a little while, and I haven't been able to get around to fixing it.  Doug noticed it a while back, and would have fixed it for me  had I brought it in.  

One of the best things I've found in my wanderings, are the amazing people I've met, and the meaningful friendships I've made, even in the strangest and most random of places.  

It's cold outside, but I'll go out with the guys for their periodic smoke break. I'm done with the night's paperwork anyway, and I'm only waiting on my one driver to call in his fuel delivery reports every couple of hours.  The rain and weather has really put us in a tight spot, and Jason Koney (native of the south end of Chicago) is doing the work of two or three people tonight.  A real pinch hitter.

I haven't had much time to write lately, and I haven't had much inspiration either.  

Between mental breakdowns, and complete blowouts, I'm hanging in there.  I've noticed a lot of people feeling similarly lately, maybe because of finals, or work, or failing relationships. Maybe it's because there's a full moon tonight. Maybe some lunar-inter-planetary stuff is the reason everything in my life seems to be falling apart.  

Whatever it is, it's made me a real wolf.  I'm ready to rip the arms and legs off the next person who crosses me. 

I'm ready to unwind, and I hope no one gets hurt.

Then again, I don't care if someone does.

I'll never be the same.

The Oilfield Monster