Yesterday was most likely my last “official” day of retirement, and it was a classic. I should be starting a job on Monday (I’ll let you all know all about it as soon as it’s finalized – I don’t want to jinx myself), consequently moving into a new phase of this project; the main focus of which is to keep writing as many new songs as I can. Looking back, it’s honestly an unreal trip having essentially zero obligations for nine and a half months, and I highly recommend it to anybody who can afford to. There are few greater gifts to give oneself than their own life back. And what do you do when you’ve been given your life back? For me, lots of strange things, but I think a brief rundown of my last completely free weekday acts as a pretty fair cross section of how I’d prefer to spend my days.

I woke up with a pot of coffee and bright morning sun and plowed more through my well-thumbed Hunter S. Thompson (Gonzo Papers Vol. 1), journaled a little, worked on a new song for a few hours, had a thick slice of sourbread toast, mixed up some new dough to rise while I’m out, packed the bag (ukelele, iPod, hammock, books, journal, camera, etc) and hit the road (don’t stop doing things just because you don’t have anybody to do them with). The bicycle took me leisurely all over the city; through downtown, to the west side where I climbed a tree and took the picture above, to those benches on the other side of the river downtown, where I took the picture below, and then casually up that consistently gorgeous bike trail to a coffee shop where Patrick was waiting, and it’s reading and laughing and drinking beer at three in the afternoon and MAKING A NEW FRIEND (this becomes a sweet, rare commodity the older you get) and back home for that Andy-sized bowl of pasta and watching a movie with a six pack of beer and just dumbly smiling at the supreme relaxation of having biked all over this grand town and honestly not wanting to be anywhere else.