skepticlysm

Tag: mental-health

  • The Hourglass of Wasted Years

    The Hourglass of Wasted Years

    • Up until you get to the word “peace,” the bullets were written on the Word app on my phone a week ago two weeks ago yesterday.
    • So, with my thumbs. In a car.
    • I sent these to Hamby on his birthday.

    :begin transmission…

    • “Conan, what is best in life?”
    • “To crush your enemies, see them driven before you, and to hear the lamentations of their women.”
    • “Good!”
    • What? Ohhhh. Conan Gray.
    • Imma wait in the car. You kids have fun.
    • Okay, but for real, I am waiting in the car reading while they’re at the show. In Kansas City at the Starlight Theatre.
    • And I’m listening to Iron Maiden.
    • “Wasted Years.”
    • And then “Sea of Madness.”
    • I’m going back to my book now.
    • Peace.

    :end transmission.

    • I didn’t really listen to Iron Maiden much.
    • (That night.)
    • Because I could hear the crowd singing every word of every song that Gray gentleman sang.

    See video.

    • Sounded like a musical European football match.
    • They had an amazing time.
    • Steph recounted the moment where the guy took stage and all the crowd in line for swag, refreshments, and the bathrooms screamed and sprinted for their seats.
    • I imagine that’s what it was like during The Beatles era.
    • I remember us rushing the stage and pushing all the folding chairs to the ground at my first Metallica concert, but I don’t remember any outright sprinting or screaming.
    • Then again, my memory’s getting spotty.
    • Brain infection.
    • Moose out front should’ve told ya’.
    • (I get at least a year leaning on the brain infection excuse.)
    • (No, I’m not asking.)
    • I wrote 800 words about AI and military deployment on American soil.
    • You’re not going to get to read it.
    • What’s the point?
    • All this shit at the same time.
    • All my shit at the same time as this shit.
    • Can get overwhelming.
    • I assume I’m already on the List.
    • I think I’m happy that song I mentioned two weeks ago wasn’t AI-generated.
    • Much less creepy.
    • Tracy mentioned she wished she could’ve seen me when that happened.
    • I’ll tell you about it.
    • I was typing something, and then I heard my name.
    • Stopped typing.
    • Aloud, “What the fuck?”
    • Not Loud, because work.
    • And then I kinda looked around my office, maybe sorta waiting to see if anything else was going to talk to me.
    • I might’ve wished it did.
    • I’ve wanted to do one of those ARGs like depicted in Fincher’s The Game.
    • Even played a video game … 20+ years ago that did a lot of that.
    • Called “Majestic.”
    • I think about ARGs all the time.
    • I feel like a read about one where they kidnap you, drive you across town, dump you, and you have to get back to “base” without being caught.
    • I thought it would be cool to have one like that here where you have to get from one side of downtown to the other in a designated amount of time without getting shot with nerf guns.
    • Like an escape room, except your friends are hunting you.
    • Probably higher tech ways to do that, but …
    • Going to be part of the LLC.
    • Yo.
    • I forgot my earbuds … one day last week.
    • (Full admission, I keep writing lists, but not finishing, and then saving them as “unpublished.”)
    • I don’t remember what day last week I started this one, but … well, nevermind. It was a week ago today.
    • And why is “nevermind” not one word?
    • It’s said as one word.
    • I’m sure it was “never you mind” or something Little Old House on the Prairie.
    • Anyway, yeah, yeah, I forgot my earbuds, which is fucking awful.
    • That would seem to make them the second most important piece of tech I own.
    • (I guess I can include the phone, since the buds don’t really work without the phone. Goddamn phone.)
    • Another thing I hate to admit, but this MacBook Air I have is my all-time favorite thing to write on.
    • Other than journals.
    • Journals are the best.
    • And I’d be doing more of that, but holding a pen doesn’t feel great at the moment.
    • I will overcome!
    • Or some shit.
    • Okay, this is the point where I started adding new shit.
    • Consecutive Mondays.
    • I’m listening to the Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 2 soundtrack by Hans Zimmer.
    • The music is way better than the game.
    • Been listening to it in the car, too, which is kinda funny.
    • Dramatic scores for your driving needs.
    • Makes me want the five-point seatbelt.
    • Last Friday, I got off early because I’d done back-to-back 11-hour days.
    • Sat in the recliner and read the newest issue of Wired.
    • There’s a story in there by Steven Levy about what’s happened to Silicon Valley.
    • Story’s interesting.
    • To me, anyway.
    • But it got to me in a bunch of ways.
    • There’s the presence Wired has had in my life.
    • It inspired my decision to switch from Pre-Med to Journalism.
    • Dumb, but … true.
    • No, that wasn’t the only reason.
    • Most of the writing in Wired in the ‘90s felt like a tech-addled Gonzo publication.
    • Which leads us to Hunter, who also had a huge influence on my attempt to be a professional writer.
    • I know I mentioned that memory before, lying on my side in the hallway of whatever the hell building it was (I’m looking at the map, but it’s not telling me), reading Fear and Loathing and laughing so hard I was crying.
    • I wanted to write like Hunter.
    • I wanted to be in Wired.
    • I wanted to have a column like Dave Barry.
    • Didn’t do one goddamn bit of it.
    • Sure, I was a film columnist for 11 years.
    • Sure, I’ve been editor-in-chief of four or five magazines.
    • Why did I not try to write for one of those publications?
    • Maybe I wasn’t good enough, but I don’t think that’s the reason.
    • The Why is … I never tried.
    • And as the sand runs through the hourglass, I feel despondent and desperate about it.
    • Maybe “Do Not Go Gentle” should really be “Do Not Stand and Watch.”
    • It’s so easy to be taken off track from your dreams in this world.
    • So easy because you have to make a living, right?
    • You have to be productive.
    • Produce, motherfuckers.
    • And to the hells with your fulfillment!
    • And this is the revelation I’ve had about work, and I’m embarrassed it’s taken me this long.
    • Do your job.
    • Think about that statement.
    • You have to have a job.
    • At your job, you do what they want you to do.
    • Sure, there’s problem solving involved.
    • You think about how to do that task.
    • But that thinking is about that thing.
    • Is that thing you’re thinking about personally fulfilling?
    • Most of us aren’t really asked to … think.
    • It’s to their benefit.
    • You get the check, sure.
    • And the … Benefits.
    • But the agreement is you’re there for them, not you.
    • I have felt, all my life, there’s a box I’m trying to break from.
    • My mind and desires, my limbs and sanity, pressing against some confinement I cannot see or touch or taste.
    • The fear of being poor has a crushing grip upon me, unseen chains and shackles.
    • That fear keeps you, well, me, from taking the chances I should.
    • And again, I can see the sand running short.
    • There’s a bit of spiced panic.
    • I shouldn’t be sharing this crap.
    • This bit of a journal that’s personal therapy.
    • Saw this thing on Insta today, and I’m going to retype it because I want the vid shared.
    • “Fall in love with some activity, and do it!
    • “Nobody ever figures out what life is all about, and it doesn’t matter. Explore the world.
    • “Nearly everything is really interesting if you go into deeply enough. Work as hard and as much as you want to on the things you like to do the best.
    • “Don’t think about what you want to be, but what you want to do. Keep up some kind of a minimum with other things so that society doesn’t stop you from doing anything at all.”*
    • – Richard Phillips Feynman
    • Oof.

    *Fun facts about quote marks. You don’t close them off at the end of the paragraph if the same person continues to speak. You save it for when they’re finished.

    No, it’s not a football match.

  • Lunch Hour

    Lunch Hour

    • Sitting here listening to Daft Punk’s Tron: Legacy soundtrack.
    • While I write random things for work.
    • And this.
    • Obviously.
    • I can go back and forth.
    • Also, it’s lunch hour.
    • (Was. – Editor)
    • EPIC cyberpunk sounds while writing a Code of Conduct for an internal communications platform I get to launch.
    • …
    • Let’s start that over.
    • I didn’t get any further than that last Friday and didn’t pick it up over the weekend.
    • The dependable lists died that quickly.
    • Which is frustrating as fuck.
    • Which makes me want to go into the whole indentured servitude rant again.
    • I won’t.
    • There’s no point.
    • And you’re tired of hearing it.
    • I’m tired of not being able to do much about it.
    • <Insert segue here.>
    • Yesterday, the kid and I went to meet my parents at Texas Roadhouse for lunch.
    • Dad’s birthday was Saturday.
    • When we got in the car, I handed her my phone, told her to find some music.
    • She put on a Punk playlist.
    • The first song was from Bad Brains.
    • Made me proud.
    • How much do we need Punk right now?
    • That raw, scream-in-the-face-of-the-system energy.
    • I popped in my earbuds getting out of car this morning, to continue listening to my “Liked Songs” playlist.
    • Turning out of the parking garage and onto the sidewalk, Rage’s “Guerilla Radio” came on.
    • There I am, gimpy from pred withdrawal, hobbling the block-and-a-half to work feeling the lyrics of that song.
    • We need Art like that so damn much.
    • The other observation: I’m experiencing right now what I’m going to feel like physically if I make it to my 70s.
    • Fucking prednisone.
    • Fast forward 20 years, I’ll be hobbling around with my hearing aids connected to my phone, still listening to Rage.
    • The kid told me a couple weeks back that sometimes, she listens to extreme Metal when she’s frustrated or mad or getting ready to do something she doesn’t want to do.
    • The hardcore, scream-o kind.
    • Surprised me.
    • Illuminating.
    • Because there have been more than a few mornings when she gets in the car and puts her headphones on.
    • I get it, kid.
    • What’s funny is that I never really subjected her to anything harder than Lamb of God.
    • She found it on her own.
    • Hours later, I’m still playing my “Liked Songs” playlist.
    • It just served up “Pocket Full of Sunshine.”
    • Been a helluva mix.
    • But how would it not be, really?
    • They’re all songs I’ve liked.
    • Genre chaos.
    • Most of the drive to work was thrash metal.
    • Two or three from And Justice for All.
    • And this Anthrax song, “Breathing Lightning,” which I love because of how it makes me feel.
    • Has this expansive, defiant, hopeful feel to it.
    • I can’t explain it better than that, and you probably wouldn’t like it like I do, especially if you’re not an Anthrax fan.
    • I won’t try to convert you, either.
    • We don’t do that here.
    • Trying to convince anyone of anything seems like a waste of time these days.
    • Try to get anyone to do anything these days …
    • (This one’s got a high Kid Quotient.)
    • The other night right before we all crashed, she said, “I really like writing down my thoughts about film.”
    • “Yeah?”
    • “Yes. Did you like writing about movies?”
    • “Yes I did. I liked it a lot.”
    • She’s really digging her “History through Film” class (I think I have that right).
    • A whole class where all you do is watch and discuss films?
    • Sounds like college to me.
    • But that “writing about movies” bit.
    • I wonder if there’s going to be a trend back toward strong voices in the fight against the algorithm.
    • I want that to be on the horizon.
    • Stop telling us what to see. What to think. What to feel. What to be mad about.
    • Start fixing things.
    • Oof.
    • Just deleted about … 15 bullets.
    • Because oversharing.
    • Not a good idea to disclose your vulnerabilities.
    • Emotional regulation when everything is full blast all the time.
    • So …
    • One of my friends who’s faculty at the college, gave me a mug when I got back from the brainssss.
    • *See photo if you’re on the Book of Faces.
    • (I promise I’ll get the blog template updated to something with pics. I miss the pics.)
    • Anyway, for those without … captions.
    • It’s one of those that looks like it has lines in a kind of nonsensical pattern.
    • Only when you turn the mug sideways and focus can you see what it says.
    • (Which is probably a truism for surviving the world.)
    • (Turn shit sideways. Focus. Conquer.)
    • Anyway, it says “Fuck This Shit.”
    • I feel like a rebellious teenager walking to and from the break room.
    • This just happened.
    • A person in the hall shook her head at me, said, “Hey.”
    • I said, “How are you?”
    • She kinda grumbled.
    • I nodded. “Yeah, it’s a Monday.”
    • She said, “How are you?”
    • I said, “It’s a Monday,” and then gave that raised mug mock salute … with the FTS Mug.
    • Now, if you’ll excuse me, lunch is over.
    • Back to the grind.
  • I Mean, What the Hell

    I Mean, What the Hell

    • Yeah, this work stuff.
    • Tomorrow’s my last half-day before resuming full-time on Thursday.
    • There’s not been one day in the last almost two weeks where I haven’t come home and fallen asleep in the … den?
    • Is it the den?
    • It’s the TV room.
    • The room we spend most of our time in.
    • That’s why they’re called Living Rooms, I guess.
    • Our house is weird.
    • There’s one room that’s like a wide hallway with a fireplace.
    • Anyway, the point …
    • You haven’t been getting lists because of work.
    • Ironic.
    • Maybe Alanis’s version.
    • Maybe the actual version.
    • Who can say.
    • I have notes in my notebook.
    • Those were relevant at the time.
    • And looking at them now, I’m not feelin’ it.
    • Them.
    • Feeling them.
    • Which would …
    • I mean, rehashing my anger toward our lives of indentured servitude … done it already, and I’m too tired from my job to try again.
    • Which is all you need to say.
    • Those notes were from July anyway.
    • Barely.
    • The day before the end of July.
    • I did spend that particular afternoon listening to Twenty One Pilots.
    • That shit should be hyphenated, by the way.
    • Twenty-One Pilots.
    • Compound adjectives are hyphenated.
    • And judgment is not spelled with an E before the M.
    • I did have a note about grammar, so … that written list might be paying off a tiny bit.
    • A tad, as it were.
    • Also from the notebook:
      • Parking garage
      • WFH
        • Idiots
        • Interview
      • Virgin Islands
      • Negative Inertia
      • Tai Chi
      • A/C guy
      • Read Wednesday’s notes
      • Walgreens
    • The other day, the kid and I went to Walgreens for dessert.
    • She offered to drive.
    • Alas, we did not have the Pilot because it was in the shop.
    • And I haven’t taught her to drive a manual yet.
    • Anyway, we walked into Walgreens and saw a Reese’s display of pumpkins and bats and ghosts and whatnot.
    • You know, the Halloween stuff.
    • And I thought, “Of course that shit’s on sale, it’s olll … oh, shit.”
    • I have time warped.
    • 2026 is going to have to be my year, because I missed a quarter of this one.
    • Woosh.
    • But yes, it’s too damn early for Halloween stuff.
    • Three solid months.
    • At least two months early.
    • Right?
    • We’re willing to give stores a month before a holiday to sell the shit for that particular holiday, right?
    • Virgin Islands?
    • Ooh, right.
    • Bought this book about how to refine your writing/research process, and at the end of the introduction from the author, he signed his name and followed it with … “Virgin Islands.”
    • Bro.
    • You sonofabitch.
    • Rubbing that shit in.
    • “I wrote this book and self-published it and now I get to live in the Virgin Islands while you buy my book and daydream of breaking free of your indenturedship! Sucka!”
    • It’s like that meme of the dude flashing the Peace sign from someone’s freshly dug grave.
    • At least he didn’t use AI to write it.
    • (Because then anyone could repackage it and sell it with a different name and get their own Virgin Island residence.)
    • (Or maybe he got to write the book because he already had money in the first place.)
    • I collect books about writing.
    • My three favorites are probably Hemingway’s, Stephen King’s, and Elmore Leonard’s 10 writing tips, which is a … list.
    • Last week, the kid told me she was reading the intro for King’s The Life of Chuck, and said it sounded like my writing.
    • I told her his book, On Writing, was really good and that she should read it.
    • She said, “Perhaps.”
    • The really odd part of that … I haven’t read a lot of King.
    • Fewer than five.
    • A few days ago, we were talking about work/school and trying to be creative afterward.
    • “I want to work on something creative, but when I get home from being bored all day at school, I can’t do it.”
    • “It’s difficult.”
    • That’s not my real problem.
    • Yes, it’s true, but …
    • Wait.
    • I’m about to overshare.
    • …
    • Nevermind. Not doing that.
    • Authenticity.
    • Gross.
    • It would smell like excuse refuse.
    • Funny how that is, right?
    • Your feelings about a thing are legitimate.
    • Your struggles to overcome a thing are real.
    • And yet, say them aloud they become excuses.
    • Oof.
    • Do your therapy.
    • Do the work.
    • Overcoming the thing is the goal.
    • Avoiding the thing is the problem.
    • Blameshifting is the problem.
    • Own your shit. Conquer it.
    • You go to therapy, right?
    • No?
    • “You think that air you’re breathing is real?”
    • Again!
    • “Fear is the mindkiller.”
    • Inertia is the worst.
    • Trying to write from a recliner in the … TV room … while the kid’s watching The Office (which I never got into) …
    • (We can still talk about tacos without them being Trump, right?)
    • (Nevermind.)
    • I started getting ads for tai chi.
    • Which I want to do.
    • Finding a place though.
    • Do you know what that’s like for introverts?
    • Going to a class of any kind?
    • But especially those martial arts classes.
    • (It is a martial art, but not one where they punch each other in the head; doing that when you have a titanium plate in your dome and a rescabbed scar is probably a bad idea.)
    • I want the habit, though.
    • I get tired of push-ups, you know?
    • (This is what I get when I write when I should be napping.)
    • (Seriously, this one’s a sack of cats.)
    • (Imma stop now.)
    • (You’re welcome.)

  • Trepidatious

    Trepidatious

    • What a long, strange week that was.
    • And now we sit on the Wall of Trepidation, the Precipice of Return.
    • I haven’t missed work.
    • I didn’t think I’d be out this long, but … apparently recovery from a craniotomy and treatment of a brain growth takes longer than you expect.
    • Even sick, even with all the health nonsense wrapping up, I enjoyed my time of freedom.
    • It gave me perspective.
    • I won’t get into that because some of my TCC people are on here.
    • But once you’ve had daily freedom for a substantial amount of time, combined with a nearish-death experience, well …
    • Epiphanies occur.
    • I had two for my book, for instance.
    • One of them means I have to go back and rewrite almost every interaction between my two mainish characters.
    • The other is probably for book two, but … might make it into this one.
    • Then there were the self-revelations.
    • The elation of not being told what to do.
    • (I cannot overstate the feeling of that; I could do so much more without that in my life.)
    • Sigh.
    • At least I’m returning triumphant.
    • The enemy might be vanquished.
    • Or it might be regrouping like Sauron, the eye ever watchful.
    • We’ll wait and see.
    • I’ll battle my hope, keep it battened down.
    • I’m not sure if I’ll have time to continue the Black List here.
    • Okay, that’s horseshit.
    • I’ll fit it in.
    • It might not be every day.
    • I need it to be every day.
    • Good habits are only good if you keep them.
    • Another aspect of my return to work, especially as it relates to this … I’m not sure I want to go back to writing sanitized versions for work.
    • Sure, that’s where this all started.
    • And most of what I write here is fine.
    • But I like the NSFW bits.
    • I like not censoring myself.
    • Though, frankly, I have still avoided politics and I’m not sure why.
    • I have a list of unrelated-to-work To-Dos.
    • Get the LLCs done.
    • Get the mic I need for the podcasts.
    • Get the websites built.
    • Get the merch train rolling.
    • Keep writing.
    • Get back in shape (already kinda started on that one).
    • Lots to do.
    • Time moves pretty fast.
    • If you don’t make moves to control yours, someone else will.
    • I have taken advantage of the convalescence.
    • Or let it take advantage of me, anyway.
    • Move it.
    • Walking around last week, I lamented the fact I’d forgotten my pocket notebook.
    • Things would pop into my head and … what to do?
    • Sure, I could use a Notes phone app.
    • But then I have to remember to check it because that’s not part of my routine.
    • (FU, computer grammar police; I mean “have to,” not “must.” This isn’t a fucking period piece.)
    • Here’s what I did: I emailed myself the note.
    • From Gmail to my primary.
    • One of them was an Insta post.
    • One of them said, “Metalhead.”
    • Which, yes, obviously.
    • But in this instance, not what you think.
    • LWIL: I have a titanium plate and screws in my head now.
    • Had no idea.
    • No one mentioned it before.
    • Beforehand, the neurosurgeon said she’d be putting the bone they removed back.
    • We’ve spent 11 weeks thinking the bone spot was just in there regrowing, fusing back with the rest of the skull.
    • And she said she did that, but also … plate in my head.
    • “Don’t worry. It won’t mess up any MRIs.”
    • Got that, lady. Already had three of those since the surgery.
    • There were other revelations in that appointment, like the size of the tissue she removed (think diameter of a dollar coin).
    • Anyway.
    • Metalhead.
    • Accurate.
    • Again.
    • And literal this time.
    • One of the other emails says, “311 drums.”
    • The drummer for 311 is a badmotherfucker.
    • So was Green Day’s.
    • Sublime … isn’t.
    • No, I’m not going to elaborate on that.
    • At the time of this writing, Snacks is standing on my chest, Kong in his mouth, begging me to save him from Emmy.
    • Because she takes his away every time, obviously.
    • Nevermind he’s bigger.
    • She’s meaner and more tricksy.
    • Yesterday, I stood by the backdoor and watched those two take care of business, and I could feel the inferno with my eyes.
    • (Steph was trying to nap, and our doors beep when you open, so … monitoring it because I didn’t let it fully close.)
    • While I watched, nearly napping, suddenly I felt a touching, touching of my little toe.
    • Looked down and Ginny had settled next to my foot, extending her paw to lay atop my toe.
    • Then she climbed up on the couch arm and asked for pets.
    • One of the cats missed me.
    • The other attacked my leg because I did not hold her long enough.
    • And probably for being gone for a week.
    • She’s still not talking to me.
    • Cat, sometimes we have to leave home for a spell.
    • Doesn’t mean we’re leaving you.
    • Don’t be a clawing shithead about it.
    • Thanks.
    • – Mgmt
    • On the way home from Minnesota Monday, I put on my “Liked Songs” playlist.
    • It literally played the entire time with no repeated songs.
    • Well, maybe a couple, but only because I’d liked two different versions of the same song.
    • I don’t think the women hated it.
    • We rolled my Dad’s Subaru Forrester.
    • … Okay, I have trouble reconciling that in my head.
    • He’s a Chevy guy.
    • It’s his first-ever brand-new car.
    • I’m used to him tooling around in a GMC 4×4 extended cab, extended bed, monster truck.
    • Still not sure how he ended up with the Subie.
    • (His doesn’t blow holes in its engine block walls like mine does.)
    • Anyway, he loans it to us for these Minnesota trips.
    • It is the best road trip car ever.
    • (Except for napping in the passenger seat; so I’m told.)
    • Android Auto is awesome.
    • Better than Apple Carplay.
    • What I’m saying is … I guess I have a shitload of “Liked” songs.
    • I did spend an afternoon in Minnesota adding songs to it, so there’s that.
    • Want a taste?
    • “Francesca,” Hozier
    • A ton of Metallica songs (because I had not liked them individually).
    • “Eruption,” Van Halen
    • “Enjoy the Silence,” Lacuna Coil (cover of DM)
    • “Santa Monica,” Everclear
    • “Brain Stew,” Green Day
    • “Prayer of the Refugee,” Rise Against
    • “The Distance,” CAKE
    • “Slither,” Velvet Revolver
    • “Judith,” A Perfect Circle
    • “My Hero,” Foo Fighters
    • “Float On,” Modest Mouse
    • “Shame,” Stabbing Westward
    • “Highway Tune,” Greta Van Fleet
    • “Personal Jesus,” Depeche Mode
    • “Break Stuff,” Limp Bizkit
    • “Even Flow,” Pearl Jam
    • “Creep,” Radiohead
    • “Bleed it Out,” Linkin Park
    • “Hash Pipe,” Weezer
    • “We’re Not Gonna Take It,” Twisted Sister
    • “Song 2,” Blur
    • “Let’s Go Crazy,” Prince
    • “I Wanna Be Sedated,” The Ramones
    • “Need You Tonight,” INXS
    • “Could Have Been Me,” The Struts
    • “Back in Black,” AC/DC
    • And we’re stopping on that one, because it’s thematically appropriate (and sets off a whole bunch of summer memories in someone’s Camaro).
    • There’s a fuckton more, obviously.
    • I guess I could share it, but … feels kinda personal.  
    • See you tomorrow, probably.

  • En Guarde!

    En Guarde!

    • The status quo has got to go!
    • On this trip to the great North, I received nothing but good news.
    • The neuro surgeon told me she didn’t want to see me again.
    • The infectious disease guy stopped the current antibiotics.
    • I now reside in the Mad Eye Moody realm.
    • …
    • “Constant vigilance!”
    • Wait and see, but … they think they got it.
    • Not a diagnosis with a name or anything like that, because nothing about this is easy or makes sense.
    • But …
    • I’m not sure what to do with this.
    • Process it in public, obviously.
    • When you have a giant growth in your head that has gotten into your brain, and the fucking Mayo can’t figure it out, you start to count your remaining years in single digits.
    • The worry feels immense.
    • Hope … well, hope is fucking dangerous.
    • Even now.
    • I still have to manage my hope.
    • The Specter looms, you know?
    • Because they don’t know what it was, they can’t say for sure, so we don’t know for sure.
    • Hope has to be managed.
    • It’s all a different kind of trauma, right?
    • Takes time to heal.
    • Minute-to-minute, hour-to-hour, day-to-day, year-to-year.
    • And having something like this changes your perspective.
    • Affects your Evaluation Matrix.
    • There’s a lot that becomes “not good enough.”
    • Hence that opening line, which no doubt I heard somewhere else.
    • (No, I’m not going to look it up.)
    • “Rage, rage against the dying of the light!”
    • Yeah, definitely going to get the tattoo now.
    • I have hoops to jump through there.
    • But I’m jumping.
    • So much of our lives are treading water.
    • Or you’ve switched fulfillment for jumping through hoops at your job, trying to advance.
    • More and more, to me, that seems a waste of time.
    • You’re limited in your jobs by managers or bureaucracy.
    • You think you’ll advance.
    • Because that’s the contract.
    • But that contract doesn’t actually exist.
    • It doesn’t actually matter how good you are.
    • How much time you give them.
    • How many KPIs you help achieve.
    • It’s all about the circumstances.
    • Timing.
    • Bah.
    • Too long others held the wheel.
    • Is it the same for you?
    • Hmm.
    • Yesterday afternoon, we hit some vintage shops here in Rochester.
    • I bought … And Justice for All on vinyl.
    • I don’t … own a record player.
    • The kid does.
    • I may hang it on the wall in my office and be done with it.
    • Last week on Discord, we talked home offices/working spaces.
    • I’m proud of mine.
    • First official one I’ve ever had.
    • One entire room in the house dedicated to all the categories of my nerdom.
    • There are a lot of books.
    • Computer.
    • Keyboards.
    • How lucky am I, right?
    • There it is.
    • Luck.
    • Do we ever give credit to the fortune in our lives?
    • Where you were born.
    • The opportunities you take for granted.
    • We’re hard-wired to notice the negative.
    • Like I’ve heard mention 5-to-1, 7-to-1, 10-to-1 positive to negative.
    • Meaning, it takes 5/7/10 positive things to overpower one negative.
    • I started seeing that first in regard to relationships.
    • And then it spread to everything else.
    • Think about it like this.
    • If you’re a boss, that ONE time you get onto your employee weighs as much as five compliments.
    • If you’re a husband, that one shitty comment weighs as much as five good deeds.
    • Because we’re wired to be on guard.
    • Too look for the bad.
    • So we can survive.
    • This is the root of the division in America.
    • The Bootstrap Bullshit.
    • (Go look up the etymology on that when you get bored.)
    • (It’s a retread of “Let them eat cake.”)
    • You only control you.
    • I’m sitting here typing on a table with wheels in a hotel room.
    • The Wife’s in a Teams meeting, headphones on.
    • The kid’s “asleep” behind us on one of the queen beds.
    • Walgreen’s keeps calling.
    • My legs are going to sleep and everything itches (again. still.).
    • Shortly, we’re going to have breakfast at Hollandberry, which is an amazing diner we found about half our trips here ago.
    • They serve this thing called a Pannekoeken.
    • They yell the word when they bring it to you.
    • Sounds like, “Panic again!”
    • I still haven’t tried it yet, but I am today.
    • I’ll post a picture later.
    • Goddamn, I love breakfast places.
    • Somehow, I have not been to Blue Moon in … half a year?
    • On my agenda for when I get back, even if I have to go alone.
    • Deep breaths.
    • Holy shit, you guys, I may be cured.
    • Sure, my car’s motor has a hole in it.
    • But …
    • Sigh.
    • Still here.
    • Still breathing.
    • Still sharing.
    • The bar’s been reset.
    • Maximum fulfillment is the goal now.
    • The status quo has got to go.

  • Seriously, Don’t Read This One

    Seriously, Don’t Read This One

    • Hard to avoid the medical nonsense at the moment.
    • Getting the PICC line out as soon as someone figures out the orders.
    • I cannot adequately express how much I’m anticipating this.
    • I have had to sit here and watch the muscle melt from my bones, what little cardio I had left evaporate.
    • I can do stretches and whatnot.
    • I’ve done less than I could’ve.
    • (Gotta stress that part; I could be doing better rather than sitting here whining about it.)
    • I was doing the walking, but that damn rash.
    • But the rebuilding begins soon as that thing is out.
    • Gone along with the excuses.
    • Today or tomorrow, we’re turning the corner.
    • I hate waiting.
    • I hate waiting on anything.
    • Patience is not one of my virtues.
    • Other people spending my Time currency is going to be less and less tolerated as we progress.
    • (One of my hospital room revelations.)
    • The other medical stuff … We’ve been taking care of Mom for almost a week.
    • Hard seeing your parent in pain.
    • She’s doing well, obviously.
    • Knew she would.
    • Having to keep tabs on her to make sure she doesn’t overdo it.
    • Because that’s where I get it from, after all.
    • Have had birthdays in the last week.
    • Have a friend who’s lost a parent.
    • Had a dumbass internet death scare.
    • It’s a lot.
    • And that’s leaving out the unnecessary, manufactured unrest of the country.
    • Hope you are taking care of yourselves.
    • Oh, the other thing.
    • The bigger thing.
    • At the precipice of returning to work.
    • Probably going to ease into some wfh these next two weeks before we go back to the Mayo.
    • If they let me, anyway.
    • If they don’t, I’ll sit here and burn out the rest of my FMLA and continue to fend off the creeping work stress.
    • Because it gets into my head even when I’m not there.
    • Insidious.
    • And bullshit.
    • Work isn’t why we’re here.
    • The toll is overpriced.
    • I’m sorry, but you’re never going to convince me of the validity of Puritanical work ethos.
    • It’s propaganda.
    • You know, this is not what the list is for.
    • Not its purpose.
    • (Though this one’s pretty typical for a Monday.)
    • It’s not supposed to be a journal.
    • Supposed to be a little more on the entertainment side.
    • Like, I started reading T. Kingfisher’s “Nettle and Bone” a couple nights ago.
    • Digging it so far.
    • Pretty prose.
    • Interesting world.
    • I had to take a break from Carl and Donut.
    • Not sure if that’s an indictment of me or the book.
    • Probably me.
    • Adult onset adhd.
    • Which I’m more inclined to think is happening.
    • Boredom induced.
    • Takes more to hold my interest outside of that goddamn phone.
    • Oh.
    • That reminds me.
    • The other day, I saw an Instagram post that used the word “seggs” (with the e as an asterisk) to substitute for sex.
    • What the actual fuck.
    • Apparently the algorithms are filtering for language, so people are coming up with “creative” ways to get around it.
    • Which makes them sound like 12yos.
    • Seggs.
    • …
    • This world is starting to piss me off.
    • More.
    • Seriously though, what kind of head-in-the-sand person are you if you can’t even read the word “sex?”
    • Pretending something doesn’t exist is not the way you cope with anything.
    • Avoidance is the enemy.
    • Another one of those things where … I’m sorry you can’t deal with it, but that doesn’t give you the right to make others filter it for you.
    • A country a third-filled with adult-aged infants.
    • Check out some of the stuff in the Big Beautiful Bill if you don’t believe me.
    •  Politicians of all kinds are not looking out for us.
    • There are a few.
    • But most of them do not understand … do not gaf … about the public service aspect of their “jobs.”
    • I should not post this one.
    • Reread it.
    • Should not.
    • It’s all an angry little man gnashing his teeth and spewing verbal frustration.
    • Cept for that one little part about the book.
    • We rewatched “Super 8” over the weekend.
    • Could not help but notice the influence it had on “Stranger Things.”
    • (Damn you, Facebook, for making italics a pain in the ass. Yes, I know you can, but the hoops make it ridiculous. However, the quotes around titles when they should be italicized drives me insane.)
    • Good flick, though.
    • Again, reminds me of the gang and our tween and teen adventures.
    • People close to me keep trying to convince me to write a book of those adventures.
    • I don’t want to because … I’m the protagonist in my memories, and those are suspect and not necessarily accurate depictions of other points of view.
    • I would hate it if I wrote it from mine, it did not line up with theirs, and they hated it.
    • Like, there’s an audience of eight, and their approval is more relevant than an Amazon rating.
    • Sure, it sounds like an excuse.
    • But I have a lot of lines I will not cross.
    • Would it be liberating to have fewer morals?
    • Fewer ideals?
    • Less guilt?
    • Less responsibility?
    • If you do not feel responsibility, then you’re probably not paying an internal price.
    • If you’re not paying an internal price, you can do whatever you want.
    • Look down on whoever you want.
    • Be Gordon Gekko with his “Greed is good” bullshit.
    • And as karma (and other things) isn’t real …
    • Now we’re getting somewhere, right?
    • The heart of those differing perspectives.
    • One of the Discord denizens discovered Spotify uses AI “bands.”
    • I read about a month ago about them creating AI “artists” and having them cover a song and then throwing those into the algorithm.
    • There’s AI as a tool that can help us do some things more efficiently.
    • Then there’s AI used for creating profit at the expense of artists’ careers.
    • Again, greed isn’t good.
    • Goddammit.
    • This list is a skippable offense.
    • I warned you at the beginning.
    • Or I will when I post it anyway, which puts these last bullets into the time loop.
    • Have the Monday you deserve.
    • …
    • Take the Monday you deserve.
    • Fucking take it.
    • (The “take” is italicized.)
    • (Which means jack on the blog because I can italicize there.)
    • (But I write in Word.)
    • (if I cut-and-paste from the blog, it jacks up the facebook post.)
    • (Screw all this; I’m moving to monetization land.)
    • (I may not be able to do lists for work anymore.)
    • (These may have destroyed my filter.)
    • (“Who will life to escaping? Who is bad milk blood robot? Scream not working because space make deaf.”)

  • Save Yourself

    Save Yourself

    • Got a phone call from the ex-Boss yesterday.
    • She was listening to a spot on NPR about long-term infections that mutate and thought of me.
    • Because, you know, I have a long-term infection that mutated.
    • We’re not really certain of the mutated part yet.
    • But seems bloody likely.
    • Anyway, then we had a good conversation, which is the norm.
    • I paced through the house with my shitty bone-conduction headphones on because, you know, that’s the only thing I have and can wear at the moment.
    • Unless I want to go wired, and ain’t nobody got time for that.
    • Anyway, she made a crack about getting a taste of … not being at work.
    • Sweet, sweet freedom.
    • I’ve been thinking about it since.
    • And I’m not going to get too deep into it because I have work peeps on my FB friends list.
    • But since the surgery, since my FMLA/Mayo mandated recuperation time, there has not been a single day when I didn’t write something.
    • Something I wanted to write during time dictated by myself and not someone else.
    • (Not all Lists, obviously.)
    • I feel so much better.
    • Mentally.
    • Emotionally.
    • That’s with a healing skull and shrinking brain tumor.
    • And day-by-day, I’m less inclined to want to listen to my “superiors.”
    • And I resent all this “productivity” bullshit I see all over the place more and more.
    • The going back is a specter I’d like to call the Ghostbusters to take care of.
    • But you know, I’m only worth what I produce for someone else.
    • Only worth what someone else sees in me.
    • Horseshit.
    • And we live this way, voluntarily or resentfully, depending on your interpretation.
    • While I was thinking about that, Billie’s “Everything I Wanted” popped up on the playlist.
    • Which inspired the question: Do you know what you want?
    • I’m not talking Taco Bell for lunch.
    • Or the hot new iPhone with AI that tells you what you want.
    • In your soul.
    • Down deep.
    • What do you want?
    • I’m working on that answer for myself.
    • Things are not the answer, mind you.
    • Items.
    • Shit you can buy.
    • Ephemera.
    • You have to do the work to find these answers.
    • You have to save yourself.
    • (Queue Stabbing Westward …)
    • So yeah, that’s what I got from a phone call.
    • Also, Billie’s awesome.
    • Can’t wait to see her, even if our seats are nosebleeds.
    • Hit a huge writing milestone yesterday.
    • Feels like a weight off and there’s that tunnel light stuff.
    • Like I said, lots of writing.
    • Lots of naps, too, because believe it or not, when you have your skull cut open and things scooped out of your head, it apparently exacts a toll.
    • The screenshot today …
    • I do that all the time on both the laptop and phone for the express purpose of sharing.
    • I save a ton of things, too, and then don’t remember to share them.
    • My “saved” … folders? … on all the platforms are full of stuff I never remember to go back and look at.
    • In that moment, the moment of saving, there’s probably that dopamine hit.
    • A laugh.
    • A smile.
    • A “Steph’s gotta see this.”
    • Again, today’s came from a saved folder.
    • I identify with both statements, obviously.
    • “Move your ass people,” he thought, not acknowledging his frustration or blood pressure.
    • Then there’s that metal one …
    • (Right now, in the writing of this, I decided to post multiple things I’ve collected. Congratulations! You get a gallery!)
    • The metal one made me want to go buy the Satanic Panic t-shirt from Dice & Devilhorns, btw.
    • I didn’t.
    • But I “wanted” to.
    • A lot of the time, when I see clever memes or social posts, I think, “I couldn’t do that.”
    • I think about a lot of creative things that way.
    • Well, I think about a lot of things that way.
    • Because we all have different strengths and talents.
    • Yours doesn’t make you better than anyone else.
    • It just makes you different.
    • And we should all recognize (in all the connotations) those differences in others.
    • I’m not a meme-writer.
    • I’m not a poet.
    • I’m not sure what the hell I am, but there are some things I’m damn good at.
    • Same with you.
    • Like, I’m not going to tell Bliss how to project manage anything.
    • Or give him a lecture on leadership.
    • Or tell James or Jerm how to draw something.
    • Or Phil how to code.
    • Or Francis how to design a structure.
    • Or Jay how to coach.
    • Or Kaia how to plot.
    • Or Steph anything about managing my health.
    • A strength we could all work on is how to recognize what others have, and to ask them for advice without ego getting in the way on either side.
    • Me asking you for help or advice should not mean you’re a superior human to me, for instance.
    • The real strength is knowing you don’t know.
    • Otherwise, that’s insecurity fucking with you.
    • Fuck insecurity.
    • …
    • What in the actual fuck is going on with me?
    • These aren’t funny.
    • The pics are.
    • Go look at the pics.
    • (Now I have to go screen cap some from my Saved crap, because I haven’t done that part yet.)
    • (Sigh.)
    • “I can not save you.
    • “I can’t even save myself.
    • “So just save yourself.”
    • Still did not get around to that Hollywood rant.
    • Tomorrow!
    • Maybe.
    • Confession: I’m not sure how I’m going to go back to writing the sanitized version of these after I go back to work.
    • Also, how fucking early am I going to have to get up to write the ones for you guys?
    • Tomorrow’s problems!

  • Might Be the Wrong Audience for This One

    Might Be the Wrong Audience for This One

    • Been a day.
    • 3 o’clock and I’m only now getting to type.
    • Tick, tock, mfers.
    • I think about time incessantly.
    • Post surgery, sitting there in that bed trying to get my wits about me, I had an awakening.
    • Paradigm shift, if I’m using some of that fancy self-help vernacular.
    • But it did happen.
    • The past three years, if I’m being honest, have been a deep, dark hole.
    • I had reduced my timeline from 20ish more years to five, 10 if I was lucky.
    • I thought a lot about leaving the kid unready to face the world.
    • Of not being here for my tiny family.
    • The hurt.
    • The loss.
    • And no small amount of fear of my own.
    • When the Mayo can’t give you an answer, it seems dire.
    • Hard not to feel the weight of uncertainty.
    • Hard not to let it feel imminent.
    • If you have never had chronic pain, you have no idea what it takes from you.
    • The amount of energy needed to function.
    • The world expects you to carry on.
    • Yeah, you hurt.
    • Tough shit.
    • Go to work.
    • You are only worth your work.
    • Produce, plebe.
    • Again, the toll.
    • I’m not trolling for empathy here.
    • I don’t talk about this shit.
    • Did not really talk about it to anyone, other than the basics.
    • There’s a thing.
    • It hurts.
    • They don’t know what it is.
    • Tick tock.
    • It’s like the scene in Krull when the wizard takes the sand from the hourglass to escape the spider’s web.
    • (Stay with me. I know we’re still on the week’s darker path, but there is light …)
    • Had the MRI on Monday.
    • Talked to the Mayo docs yesterday.
    • Everything is shrinking.
    • The antibiotics are working.
    • They’ve ruled out cancer.
    • They no longer think it’s auto-immune.
    • They think I’ve had a years long infection that got into my brain.
    • Might be one of those situations where I had one infection that allowed another to flourish.
    • But my Neuro Immunologist was geeked out about the MRI.
    • We had a super positive conversation.
    • Three more weeks on the antibiotics.
    • Another MRI.
    • But … OMG hope?
    • I dislike hope.
    • Moderation.
    • We’re not there yet.
    • But the way out seems through.
    • I don’t even know what to do with this, honestly.
    • I’m still sorta on house arrest.
    • Three more weeks with the PICC.
    • The skull’s still not quite there.
    • Clicky.
    • Breathe.
    • I mean, I might have a wicked scar, but in mere months, I might have a normal life back.
    • Holy shit.
    • Which brings me back to that paradigm shift.
    • I’m done letting other people control my future.
    • Sitting here letting someone decide what I do day-to-day.
    • What I get to make.
    • How far I get to go in my “career.”
    • Done with it.
    • Time’s a wasting.
    • It’s going to be hard, to keep from reverting to old patterns and habits.
    • However, like Agent Smith, I must get out of this place.
    • Why do we do this?
    • Why do we agree to it?
    • I know my why.
    • Do you know yours?
    • Financial insecurity based on how I grew up.
    • Too long has it dominated my decision matrix.
    • No more.
    • Won’t be easy, but you know what else I’ve learned through all this?
    • Hard ain’t no thing.
    • I beat shit I shouldn’t all the time.
    • I’m betting you do, too.
    • And honestly, I’m too smart and too good for what I’ve settled.
    • I know how arrogant that sounded.
    • I dgaf anymore.
    • And I’m bringing anyone with me who wants to come.
    • I’ve shortchanged myself, and that shit is changing.
    • I can’t believe I’m typing any of this, honestly.
    • I’ve been going to work for three years with a brain tumor and winning awards.
    • The hell, man.
    • That sentence is insanity.
    • What are we capable of with no obstacles?
    • What can we do when we’re encouraged and impassioned?
    • I’m not even high right now.
    • And there’s a goddamn Taylor Swift song playing.
    • (Not all obstacles are large.)
    • Sweary.
    • Again, that’s who I really am.
    • Sorry not sorry?
    • Hey, all.
    • What’s happening?
    • What’ve you got planned this weekend?
    • I’m not throwing that out there.
    • The weekend’s wide open.
    • I have stuff to do.
    • Some of it’s even fun.
    • Plans to make.
    • People to talk to.
    • Ah.
    • That was the normal subject matter I wanted to hit.
    • That whole introvert/extrovert thing.
    • I’m a bit of both.
    • Totally introverted around people I don’t know.
    • Like working a room?
    • Forget about it.
    • I do, however, deal with my awkwardness with random conversations.
    • I’m not introverted at all around people I know.
    • Quite the opposite.
    • A good side effect of the awkward compensation activity … I do not treat people bad in public ever.
    • I’m talking cashiers, waiters, hostesses, the mail dudes, FedEx.
    • I go out of my way to be nice.
    • And it pisses me off when I see others being rude, impatient, mean, and inconsiderate to them.
    • (Idealist, remember?)
    • Like, honestly, the fuck is your problem?
    • You have no idea what they’re going through.
    • You’re not better than anyone else.
    • You have no idea how much good fortune has shaped your reality.
    • That’s also at the root of the perspective shift.
    • Be better than you yesterday.
    • Stop comparing yourself to other people to measure your progress or self-worth.
    • Empathy for yourself, empathy for others.
    • With that, you can change the world.
    • Yours and everyone else’s.
    • Happy to be here.
    • Happy you’re all here.
    • Thanks for being part of my life.
    • Make your weekend count.
    • Out.
  • Inflammatory Response

    Inflammatory Response

    • Now playing: Killswitch Engage, “Holy Diver.”
    • No, I’m not doing the music thing again today.
    • Probably.
    • Today’s going to be … pokey.
    • As in, I’m going to poke you all with sticks.
    • Some of you, anyway.
    • Let’s talk Pride month.
    • Distilled down to its most basic …
    • It’s none of your business.
    • If someone is gay, that’s none of your business.
    • They should be free to be who they are and free of any judgment from anyone else.
    • They should be free to just live.
    • It should not be an issue.
    • Not a topic of conversation.
    • Sure as hell not a topic of persecution.
    • Are they free or not?
    • Are they free to live their lives according to their pursuit of life, liberty, and happiness?
    • Because if they are not, then this American freedom is horseshit.
    • I get it.
    • Some book says something.
    • That’s another freedom.
    • Read your book.
    • Follow your religion.
    • If you’re Christian, you’re not persecuted.
    • That’s propaganda.
    • You’re the majority in this country.
    • But again, freedom, right?
    • You have the freedom to believe what you believe.
    • Extend that to others.
    • Assume people aren’t going to see things the way you do.
    • Believe the way you do.
    • Freedom is freedom, right?
    • That means freedom to not be like you.
    • To disagree.
    • What it does not mean is that you have the right to establish laws that demand everyone believe and act like you.
    • Freedom is that, or this is all a big load of crap.
    • Someone being gay or trans or bi or atheist has literally no effect on your life.
    • So shut the fuck up about it, do your own thing, and let them do theirs.
    • Because, again, it’s none of your business.
    • The golden rule is all you need.
    • Be good.
    • Be moral.
    • Do right by others and yourself.
    • Do the good thing.
    • Have empathy.
    • Work toward understanding.
    • Dammit, man, why is this hard?
    • You know what the right thing is in every situation.
    • Do that.
    • And if you don’t, maybe we need to have some empathy and morality training.
    • Some logic classes (I took those in college).
    • I hope this comes off as shaming.
    • Because partly it is.
    • Believe what you want, but you do not get to force it upon other people.
    • College classes aren’t “woke,” btw.
    • Professors aren’t up there preaching, doing lessons on DEI.
    • Those of you who went, you remember a single class like that?
    • Classes were on subject all the time.
    • Again, enough with the goddamn propaganda.
    • ENOUGH.
    • Freedom means free, or it’s a fucking lie.
    • What’s it going to be?
    • Pride month exists because they are persecuted in modern society.
    • They’re fighting for normalcy and acceptance.
    • They should not have to.
    • Pretty simple.
    • And don’t get me started about the economic realities of life in modern America.
    • We buy into so much bullshit.
    • Okay.
    • Done.
    • I didn’t wake up cranky, mind you.
    • This is exasperation.
    • For fuck’s sake, people.
    • I only get to write this because I’m a middle-class white guy.
    • Privilege.
    • Mansplaining.
    • This isn’t even mine to defend.
    • If you make the argument that “they need to quit pushing it in my face,” you maybe need to consider it from the other side, the one that reflects you and not them, and that’s pushed in their faces every day, telling them they are not normal or wrong or whatever.
    • Imagine that’s your day-to-day reality.
    • Shit is not fair or equal, and it’s going to take work to make it so.
    • That is sure as hell not happening currently.
    • Anything I write from here to the end no one’s going to remember.
    • I re-subbed to Wired.
    • Back when that mag launched in the ‘90s, it was the journalistic bastion of tech and cyberpunk.
    • It was Rolling Stone for nerds.
    • I loved it so much.
    • Fantastic writing, great stories, beautiful design.
    • The Letter from the Editor in the most recent issue, “Rogue Nation,” is fantastic.
    • I kinda geeked out reading it.
    • Like, “YES!”
    • “So be the rogue you want to see in the world, and know that WIRED, with every ounce of rebel spirit in our DNA, will be right there with you.” – Katie Drummond, Global Editorial Director
    • Honestly, reading the issue makes me want to be a journalist again.
    • I bailed on that career path as fast as I could.
    • My first two jobs were $15k/year.
    • It took forever to get out of the $40ks as it was.
    • Journalism isn’t vanishing because it’s not valuable, but because it’s not profitable.
    • …
    • F.
    • That’s another soapbox.
    • Can’t do two in one day.
    • Vollertsen called me an idealist.
    • It’s true.
    • This angry façade I carry?
    • I see so much dumb shit going on in the world.
    • It makes me insane.
    • We do every bad thing to ourselves.
    • Two dark lists in one week.
    • Then again, this isn’t work.
    • This is The Black List.
    • My anger and frustration covers the fact I’m an accepting, loving person.
    • I care about people.
    • The anger’s armor.
    • Self-defense.
    • Because I’m vulnerable.
    • Pretty much always.
    • There’s my deep admission for the day.
    • We all are on some level.
    • Or we’re all delusional.
    • Which is another form of self-defense.
    • Where’s that leave us?
    • Love your people.
    • Let others love theirs.
    • Work on getting along or leaving them alone.
    • Check yo’self before you wreck yo’self?
    • Think about it before we start arguing, k?
    • Love you all.
    • Thanks for reading.

  • MFing Mondays

    MFing Mondays

    • I have done gummies once.
    • When Brad visited a year ago.
    • Was fun, actually.
    • Have not since.
    • Do not want to do that with my kid in the house, for one.
    • For another, I did not sleep worth a damn after.
    • Prior to that, only alcohol.
    • Never wanted to experiment with drugs.
    • Just Say No worked on me.
    • And other negative substance abuse influences in my life.
    • You go one of two ways with that kind of thing.
    • I bring this up because … Had an MRI this morning.
    • I can’t do MRIs without having valium.
    • Panic attacks ensue.
    • Hell, I had a panic attack while ON a valium during an MRI once.
    • I never thought I was claustrophobic, but … maybe?
    • Anyway, we’re still riding the valium wave.
    • A bit.
    • They don’t tend to stay with me very long.
    • Two hours, tops.
    • I started having panic attacks when the kid was about nine months old.
    • If you’ve never had one, I hope you don’t.
    • Because it feels like you’re dying.
    • When they first started, my doc gave me a script for Xanax.
    • First time I took one of those, I understood how people became addicted to drugs.
    • That was the most relaxed I have ever been in my entire life, before or since.
    • Peace and mindfulness in a pill.
    • In the course of all this medical drama, I’ve had Oxy.
    • Does nothing for me.
    • Not any better than Tylenol.
    • Xanax did not cure my panic attacks, btw.
    • Nor did buspirone.
    • Kali and JKD did.
    • Martial arts.
    • I can’t adequately explain the level of emotional confidence and control martial arts gave me.
    • Granted, I was training five days a week, but still.
    • How much of anxiety comes from feeling unsafe?
    • And how much of our coping mechanisms are based around control?
    • You control nothing but yourself.
    • Focus on you.
    • Monday morning MRI.
    • This is what you get.
    • I gotta say, having a PICC has been fantastic for labwork.
    • I haven’t gotten stuck since leaving the Mayo.
    • Annoying to have, but … advantages!
    • Pockets of sunshine!
    • Every time I leave the house, I think about how my skull has not healed shut yet.
    • Like, now would be the worst time to have a car accident, know what I’m sayin’?
    • Would my brains spill out?
    • Started today thinking it might be fun to write a chemically influenced list.
    • It’s not.
    • It’s just whining about medical crap.
    • Everyone have a good weekend?
    • Mine was D&D dominated.
    • Friday and Sunday nights.
    • DMing is stressful.
    • You have to build a story that will be compelling and fun.
    • And you have to be ready to toss it out the window when they do something you did not plan for, which is literally every session.
    • Great for improv development.
    • And storytelling.
    • Should translate to book writing.
    • But man, your head has to be in it.
    • Looking at people and reading the room.
    • Oof.
    • Under pressure.
    • I did have that Old Fashioned finally.
    • Awwww yisssss.
    • Just one.
    • Moderation.
    • You see that study that reported how many parents in America have an alcohol problem?
    • Sigh.
    • At work, writing these, I have a mandate to entertain and uplift.
    • This would not be that, would it?
    • Nothing funny here.
    • Bah.
    • You’re watching Murderbot, right?
    • You have AppleTV, right?
    • Of all the streaming services, they’re making the best content.
    • There’s not a ton of it, but it’s almost all good.
    • And they are definitely the standard bearers for modern sci-fi shows.
    • They’re making Neuromancer.
    • Holy F I cannot wait for that.
    • Amazon did a great job with The Peripheral.
    • Lameass to have cancelled it.
    • But yeah, Murderbot.
    • Read those books while you’re at it
    • I started Sunrise on the Reaping over the weekend.
    • The actual print book.
    • I haven’t read a printed book in more than a year because of all this eye bullshit.
    • Book’s pretty good so far.
    • Talked to Kaia about it.
    • Her take is that the writing is okay, but the story’s good.
    • So I asked her what books had her favorite prose:
    • Gallant
    • Song of Achilles
    • We are All So Good at Smiling
    • I’ve read one of those (Song of Achilles).
    • She’s not wrong on that one for sure.
    • And V.E. Schwab usually writes good stuff (Gallant).
    • I think that Smiling is verse?
    • A whole novel written as a poem?
    • Holy crap.
    • Steph just asked Kaia and me what our favorite literary devices were.
    • I had to have a definition to answer.
    • Stuff like metaphor, foreshadowing, etc.
    • Been a long time since I had a lit class.
    • Oooh, that stuff.
    • I’m not answering here, but it made me think of Hemingway.
    • That story I love of his, “Hills like White Elephants.”
    • On the surface, it’s about a couple waiting at a train station.
    • They talk.
    • There’re implied things.
    • The story itself is about an abortion, but that’s never said, never once stated.
    • It is brilliant.
    • I wonder if the kids of today could even pick up on any of it.
    • Everything has to be explained.
    • Effing over exposition.
    • It is on you to delve deeper, to think critically.
    • You can’t have control of anything if you understand nothing.
    • You can’t ascend if you can’t think for yourself.
    • Motherfucking Monday.
    • I gotta quit.
    • I’ll see you tomorrow.