The Endless Bummer

Last weekend, when I took out the new board I also took out the long dormant Holga. Some photos of Jack Brull's kind of got me back into it. This was the end of the session. Looks like the conditions were calming down a little.
Everytime some non-surfer finds out I surf, the questions are the same. Where do you surf around here? Do you surf in the winter? Is it any good? Are you good?
I have my answers I give to the first three, but the last one always gets me. I realize, of course, the answer is no, but it kills me to admit it. I simply don't surf often enough to get back to any level of real authority. Competence maybe, but no authority. After a week or so surfing consistently in California (what I do about two or three times a year), I am just starting to feel it. But then I come back to New York, get mired in the toiling rhythms of work and everything goes down the other tubes. I guess it's ok, but it doesn't feel ok. I suppose, for right now, processing the necessities is my life's work. And so I process away.