So, later on today, I go back to work, a long-time goal come true.

That is, since 1990, have wanted a job (that pays real money and bennies) where I could stay up late and sleep in the morning. Last/my first semester, I had class at 10 a.m. This semester, I don't have to be at school until 4.

As I sit here this morning, spending my time as I please, I'm digging my new schedule already.

Thus ends our longest vacation of our school year, other than summer. We got two weeks in October for Ramadan, two weeks in December, and over three weeks just finished between the semesters.

This long vacation did not turn into any of the productivity I expected, but neither will I ever forget it.

Art-wise, my stall has continued. Something went wrong in December and that kind of productivity has been lost to me. It's all too daunting, but I hope to build a new routine in this new schedule.

Similarly, and much more maddening, much more frightening, much more troubling, my book has gone nowhere in the past few weeks. But am more optimistic here than about my art. I think my book needs "my day job" (or "night job" or whatever) as a germination location for my thinking. And now I'll be able to think about the book "off-site" and then come home and work all night.

Of course, knowing me, I'll procrastinate from my book while working on art again? Obviously, that wouldn't be all bad.

But procrastination is the devil of my life.

I realize this with new clarity, because of the main way this vacation HAS been productive.

Three weeks of doing little else than searching my soul, with many unexpected rewards.

Spent most of my thirties running away from my age, dreading the next landmark. And yet now, feeling strange unexpected rightness at my age of 40. As if I own it. I can finally wear it like a badge of honor. Never would have anticipate this, but it feels right and proper like I never could have guessed.

Have had a fulfilling and rewarding correspondence that has been very helpful in this regard. We often learn more about ourselves from what we have to give and share with others. This has led to many helpful breakthroughs.

Finally rounded the corner on the major heartbreak of my life. Can finally look back and understand it in a way that doesn't require me to take so personally. Can't do justice to the load off my heart, but it's substantial relief.

On the other hand, am finally facing the magnitude of the major trauma of my life. Something horrible happened to me in 1998, and of course I've always known that. But I'm starting to face it with new clarity, to try to deconstruct it and put it in its place. Maybe I'll seek professional help when I return to the States. I finally see there would be no shame in that, taking care of my self. But that trauma is not going away on its own, I realize that now. Fooling myself to think that it would.

In this gender-stratified culture, there is of course no love to be found. So I've been looking abroad. Might have found some, that would someday reward my patience. It's premature to declare anything definitive, but I think she/we may be amazing and perfect for each other. (In fact, the primary patience is to relax and let her realize it too, and she seems off to a good start.) So that may amount to no news in the end, or it may become another reason I will never forget this vacation. I found her on January 31, and sent her flowers last week. It's been a long damn time since Valentine's meant anything hopeful to me.

Unfortunately, I had intended to buy a particular pedal trainer during this vacation, but it was out of stock when the time came. So instead, have finally started using our exercise room here in the compound. Just doing 45 relentless minutes on the treadmill for now, but every day. I hate sharing the room/space (because I hate when someone else wants to talk to me or turn on the television), so it's another advantage of my new schedule. Everyone else will be at work during the day, so I'll have the room to myself.

I refuse to jog because I hate what it does to my shins and knees, so I walk very aggressively instead. It's been good to work on my heart in this fashion as well, haha.

So all this gives me new context to view the future, helps me mount new priorities and try to reevaluate how they all fit together.

I'm a big believer in vision, that to envision goals and targets with clarity is a major halfway step toward achieving them, and arranging other priorities around them in a cooperative way.

So this vacation will go down in my personal history, as a landmark turning point and investment in my future.

I finally quit.

After fifteen years, more or less.

Averaging around two packs a day. More than a carton a week.

Defining my existence by a never-ending ritual to overcome persistent withdrawal.

Fooling myself into believing that poison was something I enjoyed.

Cold turkey a week ago, and days in bed to breathe deeply and rest it off.

It's been horrendous, and still stressful...

I'm not sleeping worth a damn, and still can't seem to catch my breath...

Chewing a lot of gum and sucking on a straw for relief...

And you know?, this country doesn't smell very good.

But I am definitely done.

Quit.