“Have I done something?”“No, it’s not that. I don’t know. I feel….weird.” He approach closer to me. “What do you mean?”“I don’t ...now. I guess it’s a phrase. I feel like nothing. Tonight I feel like going online to dropping out. I feel like moving back in my apartment. I feel like doing nothing. I feel like my compassion drained away and my motivation is falling apart. I feel….different.”“I guess it’s normal. Do you feel….lazy?”“I guess so. I don’t even feel like cleaning this last dish to be. The ants I'll toss, unless we come across something unusual."Back at the Best Western, I phoned Weena to check in and keep her informed. She asked whether I'd learned anything worthwhile and I told her that mining iron was a dusty, dirty and noisy business. She told me that from her experience, nickel was, too. She told me that Patrick asked about me daily, but that she kept telling him I'd be home soon. After usual endearments, we got off and I went to wash the dust away with beer."And a. More

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