Got to talk with my mom on the phone last night (Dad was out at the bowling alley with the good ol' boys, in classic blue-collar Midwest fashion). I think she still worries about me being single, but I don't. I'm content at my best and resigned at my worst: in either case, there's little to be gained by focusing on wanting life to be other than what it is. That outlook has sometimes stunted hope, however. I could go on and on; it's a hard thing to pin down.
Have to work some today, which sucks. I'd really like to stay in the cave for another day, or even a few more days. I'll probably try to just get it over with right away.
Read a bit more in The Problem of Pain this morning. I do want to experience the joy of being finished with it, and of starting a new book. My attention span has been nuked by television and the internet.