Saturday, September 6, 2014

Ah, yes, awake again.

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I always do, but this time it stuck.  I looked at the clock when I woke.  It indicated somewhere in the neighborhood or 20:30.  A couple of hours had gone by?  Where does the time fly!  Never mind.  I was able to do nothing yesterday.  Today, again, same goals.  Less time to get ready and make my way to town, so that may be out.  A shower and some cleaning, however, are on the menu.  Whether anything will happen is a whole other ball of wax.  I am able to at least put some things on the menu.  It is... somewhere between a minor and major improvement.  Doing something, action, is the vestiture of great intent, currently.

I was thinking about the dream from the other night.  The reason generals are not soldiers, and soldier are not generals, is because one is function and one is thought.  It is believed, by theologians, tacticians, businessmen, and engineers of the professional class, that contemplation and action are separate, and should be kept apart.  When you train a man to be both, you are teaching him to be the impossible.  The action of thought, alone, and in itself.  There are... limits.  And, there are problems.  Sometimes, when action is required, thought is chosen.  Sometimes, when thought is preferred, action is taken.  And, at times, through the resonance of each, the impetus to any sort of attention is either wrongly canceled or greatly exaggerated.  This, all, of course, aside from the fact that no man is stone.  Not even Christ.  Stones don't bleed.  These notions have been bugging me, as I... sit and contemplate action.  Go ahead, laugh.  I did.  Until it became sour.  Such is the way of humor.

I have been gaming.  At least I can do that.  I would guess, between study, and then actual play, I have advanced to where a typical player would be a month or two into play in my first week.  This game has too much information, too many tricks, traps, and items, to ever be fully known save through years of play, tons of experimentation, and lots of trial and error.  Even then, the easy way, the best way, the fastest way, will not always be known, or chosen, for various reasons.  This game, actually, could be played for a decade or more, assuming the hardware exists in the future, or lasts.  So very many variables.  The only problem I have with the game is that it is set for both multiplayer and single player, so advice has to be considered with that in mind.  I don't do multiplayer.  That is for geeks who can't deal with the real world, in my way of thinking, and so make havoc or seek help.  Fine, fine, I know some people have great hate at being... lessor.  This gives them a world to explore, and hopefully grow, from that wound.

Oh... a few more hours to wake, hopefully a shower... then... anything.  We'll see.  But, for now, back to the dungeons.  Hehe... literally, if electronically.  And you thought I had no sense of humor!  Later. 

I was just thinking...

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I am questioned, often.  It seems I might be a bit hard to take, even stomach, at times.  It is true.  I won't debate the matter.  I tried to argue, when I was younger, and couldn't, or wouldn't, see.  There is nothing sacred, save God.  Not even angels, and not men until they have passed that final hurdle.  Not to me.  I don't mind treading on almost any notion, and I will question any understanding, by others or myself.  And, yes, I tested God.  He's good, by the way.  Now I just parry God as a means of understanding, so as to abide... not to qualify.  As I said, He is good.

My means can be harsh.  My methods can be brutal.  And I can do these things without a thought.  Do, or do not, there is no try.  That sounds simple, or easy, or mellow, until you think about it.  Yes, or no.  The world is cut and dried, we just don't get it, most people.  Then again, even a billionaire, perhaps more so, knows that... it's a hoax, if the world is it.  I doubt if even they can get quality work of which they can find certainty.  And, no, not even death and taxes are sure things.  Trust me.

Oh, but... what got me... was some judgmentality about my way of doing things, even my life, my posts, how and what I think, perhaps who and what I am or might be, and so on.  You have heard, perhaps, that Christ suggested that He would leave the company of the ninety nine for the one lost sheep.  How much more for... one such as me.  A saint in hell is far less rewarding for those who desire that than a hellion in heaven is for the hosts on high, for Satan can never be happy, his minions less so, while angels rejoice only half as much as God at each one who enters.  Just thought I'd send a message through the nether to the ears and eyes. 

Doubt me, but don't doubt my faith, or my nature.  The two don't usually mix.  Still not sure why He called.  Glad He did, now.  He does have a hell of an child, in me.  And, for my part, I get to relearn what being a child means... in many ways.  Good... day, and night.

Friday, September 5, 2014

Today?

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Gosh, Wally, I don't know.  I have been under the weather, possibly due to the weather.  Pushing might have helped create the vulnerability.  Not a problem.  When falling, flap your wings.  Might not do anything to save, but... just out of curiosity.  Well, and to die with a snark on your face, if you are going to die?  Maybe even just a smile?  Yeah, I'm trying to lose the snark.  Actually, mostly, that is gone.  I didn't kill it, I simply replaced it with better... much as what I did with hate, replacing it with a form of disrespect and... regret, of a sympathetic nature.  Empathetic, really.  I have worn those shoes, chose others.  Still...  Today?

The hope is to get cleaned up.  Perhaps a further hope to do some cleaning.  And, at the fringes, perhaps a trip to town late at night, when... if... I can.  Just a hamburger and fries.  Hot food.  While rice and quinoa, with butter and or cheese, and or tuna, has been good... it's... causing... problems.  I am not eating enough cheese for that to be the problem, so I think it is the grains.  No wonder vegetarians and vegans use six times as many laxatives as the average American... last I heard.  Bump.  All I'm saying the more.

Sleep is rolling me.  I have no idea, at this point, when I am going to bed or waking.  It is too rough right about the time I go down, and wake, for me to consciously take note.  I may have been awake for an hour, or three, at this point, so I don't have a reference, and can't gauge one.  Same with sleep.  I go in hard and fast, without any clue beyond ~crash~!  I'm working on it from the inside.  If that is more like trying to sew a button on while high diving off a cliff and checking email.  Yeah...  But...  It's where I am and what I have in front of me, and regardless of the outcome, I will put in effort to putting everything in it's place and doing what needs to be done on a priority basis.  Chaos doesn't confront me none, so long as I do what I can with what I have.  I have... been in much worse spots, where everything around me, and even myself, had some high probability of causing immediate death, dismemberment, and worse.  It's... sort of my area.  A broken heart is just one more variable.  Yum!

Well... I best see if Sam is finished with her daily duty and wants back in, so I can feed the girls.  Sassy is breathing down my neck.  She knows, as do I, that it is past dinner time.  I would like to feed them around noon, but only when my schedule is static.  I don't like feeding them too close to when I wake up, it encourages bad behavior.  Yes, so... no... not for a few more hours.

Yeah, we will see.  I am, after all... only flesh and...

Thursday, September 4, 2014

A few things, anyway.

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For a while, I had wondered if being stationary, as I declined in function, was the reason for the soreness.  If it were, and it can be if that hits hard, then it lasts until I become active again.  Thankfully, it seems that the pains were really from overdoing last week.  All good.  As I've mentioned, that sort of pain can't be bought at any price and yet, to me, is as priceless as it seems.  It means, essentially, that one is living... and as fully as they are able.  It means I am scraping bottom to reach for the unreachable.  The pains, have, for the most part, completely gone away.  Since going down Sunday, really, and onward, so far, I haven't gone down so hard as to create other pains.  A good thing.  You don't want to be sore from just sitting.  And, you don't sit that hard and long as a choice.  Sounds strange, just trust me.  Some people think, given the choice, or option, that they would love to sit from Sunday to Thursday.  And, for a one-time thing, that might be true.  But when such a thing hits, and there is no choice, it isn't as fun as it would seem.  Be careful what you wish.  Thought, that has never been a wish of mine.  Though reaching out to... own too much of the world and myself may have been why I am what I am.  Though, sometimes, bad things just happen.  Who ever knows these things.

I had an appointment today.  I had forgotten until just a few hours ahead of the time to be there.  I could, technically, timewise, have mad it.  But I was already pushing bedtime in an attempt to reorder my days and nights.  My eyes hurt as if sand had been poured in, my body hurt for sleep, my mind was reeling and wandering like a desert madman sage.  And I would have needed a shower, to dress, and to drive... and all of that on very short order and in a hurry.  So, I changed the appointment.  That seems like the simple, and logical, thing to do.  But, for most of my life to this point, even if I happened to notice things had gone sideways... ahead of time, like this, but just barely as I did today, and in the condition I was in, I wouldn't have, perhaps couldn't have, called.  I haven't always had the ability to reach out of my grave, to touch the world, to risk the exposure, to verify my condition... or to signal weakness that if followed upon could be considered a tactically dangerous exposure.  Do not cry wolf but do not whimper, ever.  Whimpering in the world of the lethal, leaving blood on a trail, dangerous.  Better to die alone, bleed out in pain, than to let them know.  I don't believe medical is, always, on some things, in some ways, more so the V.A., your friend.  The best of their worst is that they will 'love you to death'.  The worst is they will use you as a data point, as I believe the V.A. has, and darkly.  They knew about my heart for a long time, or highly suspected, and didn't mind taking huge risks... probably just "to see what would happen".  Data they play with, and probably sold.

Still, I did this.  This was considered mild enough exposure.  I am, after the call, not sure.  They tried to keep me on the line, after rescheduling, and asked a bunch of data that hasn't changed in decades.  I don't know if they were checking something, doing a passive medical or other exam, or what.  Perhaps they get year end bonuses of longer contact times.  I don't know but I don't trust.  Medical, coupled with military and intelligence once you have become a lump, and the government ever, are not your friends.  Know this, love this.  This is the truth.  Use them as employees, don't ever allow them to become your boss... if, in America, that may be too late.

I did stay awake until well past noon.  I think it was past 13:30.  I called at 9:30 or so.  My goal, today, was to stretch to just being awake out to the appointment time today.  Getting back on scheduled has a cost.  With the weather going from light to dark, warm to cold, and a general cooling, this fight is going to be hard.  While this summer wasn't optimal, it was easier than fall and winter will be.  The goal is to do as much as I can, when I can.  I had hoped for a two week reschedule, instead it will be more like a month and an half.  Perhaps I shouldn't rush the schedule change?  The thing is, I don't want days to be when the sun is up just for appointments.  And yet, with the seasonal cool and dark coming in, getting on schedule quickly... I may not be able to keep that ordered for long.

Just blathering as I wake.  I woke at... maybe... 18:00?  Which means, if I can, I will take a nap later, perhaps a long one.  I can push, but only so far.  I can sleep, but once disturbed that's that.  It's like being in a space craft with no real engines or steerage.  I have boosters, of very limited use, and can open vents for even smaller shifts in trajectory.  But I can't just hit the gas and go to a specific point.  Right now, if the example was the case, I am merely able to keep from finding out how solid the heat dissipation shielding is and wondering if, should I fall, whether I would land where I could survive.  As many times as I have fallen, healthwise, I have never known if I would be able to rise again.  Even now, jaded about it and used to it, I am never sure.  In real terms, yes, I will.  But it doesn't feel like that.

It's a good day, other than those minor things.  I just need to figure out something to eat.  I may even see about a shower, maybe a drive to town for an easy calorie rich meal.  If not... I'll figure something out.  Rice and quinoa, with that little cooker, have been on tap quite often.  I might see how well it handles oatmeal.  I do like that stuff.  Gruel, but I like me some gruel.  Hmm... I wonder... I still have some pork sausage, some of it maple flavored... cook that in a batch, keep in in the freezer, add it to the gruel.  While I like gruel, I love meat.  Mix and match, somehow, and...  It's a matter of hitting the right combinations of vents and thrusters to translocate to the goal.  Nothing, in this place, is as easy as it might seem to those down below... or in my case... up above?  Who knows.

I've got food on my mind.  A goal.  A little one, but it pays for itself and pays forward as well.  I best get to waking in the hopes of vittles.  Later!

Oh well.

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Regardless of how potent dreaming was recently, life has lost a bit of it's luster.  Then again it has been cloudy, cooler, and a sense that fall is here.  It's not here, it's just closer than before and... just seems like it has been hanging over most of August.  I have enjoyed the cool.  It just seems a little wrong.  I hear August, here at least, had a greater number of cloudy days than usual, perhaps many more.  From memory, as good as that is, it seems this August has been much cloudier, cooler more often, and... something else... something... fall like.  I don't know, but if winter follows through, it is going to be hard, long, or both.  Then again, as we age we notice such things... or at least remember noticing them?  As a child, winter equaled cold.  A bad winter, a good winter, a light snow winter?  All the same.  Cold.  I remember hearing how this or that winter, as a child, was worse.  I just couldn't tell the difference.  A peculiarity, or just a type of personality not really geared, or at that time, for picking up such.  I had books!  Comics!  Playing, fighting, and... other things on my mind.

My sleep cycle is twisted again.  I suppose, given the time-frames, I would rather have my days, then my innards, twisted.  But more, when I let it run it's natural course, my sleep is varying greatly, as is waking time.  I can't seem to get a handle on it.  Some of it is the weather changes, some of it is that new game.  New toys, ones I really like, can... eat me.  I fall into them like falling in love for some.  I suppose they are made to be addictive.  But they have to be careful with addictions.  If one game becomes too popular, they will cease to make money on new games.  I would suggest they have added a bitter components, aspects of the game that are meant to irritate the player on to other games, in some period of time.  Truth be told, to figure out any three games, ones someone likes well enough, it could honestly take three years to fully explore, find every object, uncover secrets, and such.  Some games could be played for a whole lifetime, and all of the possibilities not be explored.  I am currently playing, I suspect, one of those latter type of games.

The game is rather demanding.  I hear it used to be more difficult.  The first in the serious was much harsher yet.  They have "fixed" some aspects of the game to make it more broadly playable.  I didn't realize this until after I had accidently updated the game.  Usually I don't have the ps 3 connected to the internet.  I must have needed, or wanted, it connected, for something and left it connected.  Bad call.  Now  I am too invested in the characters, and there is no way to go back without losing the characters.

I was correct about a couple of notions regarding the game.  It is a bit of a nerd game.  Collecting specific armor, weapons, and skills is part of it.  But digging into the game mechanics, trying to figure out timing, in some cases down to microseconds.  Figuring out how to do some things that, really, are rather technical.  It is not a game that can be played casually and well.  Then again, I wonder how many expert model kits, with motors, gears, and such, end up just sitting, never finished... sometimes never started?  This is a more adult game, of upper middle intelligence, but with components of hoarding, figuring, and surviving.  Half of what makes it complicated is being given controls that run like mud, but against opponents who are in the same mud, but better than you... only with weak points you can, potentially, defeat.

I doubt, in the game, if there is a single enemy I haven't died, sometimes often, figuring out how to beat.  At least after some of the lowest level creatures, as few of those as there were.  And, in every boss fight, just understand, no matter how often you watch someone else on YouTube beat a boss, you will die your first time.  I have beaten a few bosses first shot, but it is rare.  Oh, and there are also named mini-bosses, and types that fit the bill.  Some take a lot more time to figure out than others.

I was also right about some of the learning curve.  I really couldn't have learned some things, like parry, or backstab, early in the game.  When living on margins of survival, and needing to have enough chances to do it right, you can't squander your nerve and patience trying to learn a technical move.  I am, at a lower-mid level, just now able to begin exploring these skills, albeit in the beginner areas.  Even then, in this game, opponents scale.  The first creatures I fought, at the beginning of the game, are still dangerous.  It is more that their flaws are known much more precisely and I have more choices of weapons or skills.  It will be some time before I truly master some of the moves and skills.  The nice thing is that once I have them, they transfer nicely to another type of character... with some minor learning curve and extrapolation due to weapons and armor actions and reactions within the game.

It does give me something to occupy my time as I try to figure out my next real world moves.  When I am up to that again.  A down period is for movies, books, and games.  Since I despise Hollywood, can't focus enough to read... games it is.  Since I can't get up enough to go out, and have no one to play with out there, I'll... stick to electronic games.  It's what I've got.  I seem to be crashing "early" today.  At least I was able to hold my schedule slip in check in order to take a trip Saturday.  That actually surprised me.  I didn't think I was going to be able to make it.  I didn't sleep much the night before, couldn't.  But I was able to manage staying up and pushing through the day... as prepared as I could be.

Well, yes... bedtime.  Good night and... good day! 

Wednesday, September 3, 2014

The other sight.

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A dream, really.  But some dreams are different.  Some dreams are just dreams.  I think these were created and developed to help us deal with the ambiguity of the world.  A place for asking what if... filling in the blank without reservations, morality, logic, but not necessarily excluding those.  And perhaps exploring that.  Other dreams, for me, are prophetic.  Prophecy is only the naming of the potential.  Some more strongly, some more weakly... some without a doubt.  But no man may know, not for sure.  I don't care for those dreams, in some ways.  It's like loving to cruise on a ship, then wandering into the murky down-below, where the machines grind, oil and sewage water and hard things exist.  There is a beauty to it, but no surety, and yet absolute certainty, given specific givens and inputs.  Then there are the dreams of time past, some of it mine, the flesh suit I own has had a... rich past.  And there are dreams of other people's past, though some of those, perhaps, are me as well.  And there are some dreams of my future.  Not quite... prophecy, these.  Just... their own.  And then there are the dreams... like the one I had last night.

As you may have noticed, my dreams are rather... full bodied.  I don't dream of a butterfly, a lake, and a dragonfly.  I live at the lake, in the example given, and fully realize my living status, my residence or camp, I study the flora and fauna if they are noticed.  I live from a day to years in that dream, and it becomes a part of who I am.  Crazy?  I don't know.  Simply an artifact of a powerful imagination?  I'd love to believe it but I don't consider myself imaginative, not in the... this area.  I am functionally imaginative.  I deal with the reals, and mix and match application, process, and technique.  For example, I consider a lot of crossover between love and war, and have been tops at both... in my areas of those, and for good or ill.  Still, I don't just dream a little dream.  I go live somewhere, become someone, or even something, else.  I have been a bear, a wolf, and an eagle, in that order.  I ate, thought, hunted, and lived, socially and singularly, as each beast.  No simple small dreams.

In this dream, and this type of dream, I... don't understand these.  It is as if I am looking through myself, looking through myself.  I am highly dissociated from the lead main in the dream, and yet I think it is me.  These are the dreams where I see myself, for example, as the rider of the red horse.  In these dreams, I might be that, or some other aspect of it, or see some way that this came about.  But I am and am not who I am.  So it was with this dream.

In it, I found myself, somewhere in middle life.  I had been, and agreed to be, a product of and for war.  I had been trained for combat.  Not the type of warfare a soldier or general or typical military asset would encounter, but all out warfare.  Then I was trained to be a general, given the same operational freedoms as before.  I was taught tactics, given real combat commands, taught to see the enemy and his motives, through his actions, and to be able, and willing, to sacrifice this unit (men) or that for the scheme.  None of it is... pleasant business.  Some sacrifice, or offer that, of themselves.  Others have an even more terrible burden.  They must sacrifice others.  I was created to be both.  A bastard of the way of war.  A bastard I am, and so it should be no surprise.  Simply, the notion, sometimes, catches even me flatfooted.

I was taught hard.  I was taught well.  I was given nothing, but what was needed.  I often had to make due with less, or even nothing, and in real world and hostile environments.  I learned to not die, I learned to kill, but I had to survive, or not.  Training went beyond the battlefield and enemy territory, engagements and ghosting.  Beyond the world of flesh, the education went into the mind.  Deprivations, starvation, indoctrination, literal practical professional training.  I was separated from myself, so as to be what was needed and wanted.  Torture was something I endured as part of it, perhaps even in my combat situations.  I learned escape.  I learned many things.  Including when to fight, how to fight, with whom to fight, when to go alone, and how to sacrifice everything I loved in order to win.

I was not taught about greater good, God, the worth of men.  I was, however, chosen, in part, because I already had the attributes in these areas that were seen as satisfactory.  The hope was that neither would unbalance the other.  The goal was to have a man who loved and obeyed God, had a respect and love for mankind, and yet could set aside these things, or balance events and actions through a process that a computer simply can't replicate.  A weighting scale with a greater latitude for perspective than most men can naturally have, even in the worst of situations.  Can you surrender yourself?  Many can.  Can you surrender your family?  Your allies?  Your leg?  Your morals?  While many men have done so, they didn't often do it willfully, only regrettably.  The difference may seem slight, but it's not.  There is a universe of difference between the two.  What is the gain, is all I will say.  I can't be bought, negotiated, threatened, or blackmailed.  I am.  If, that is not all I am.

Sweat rolls, sometimes, in such dreams.  Burning.  Much humanity was sacrificed in the making of this man, or me.  Things so delicate, so precious, but so costly to carry where I was being created to be sent had to be... removed, eliminated, killed.  Things were lost, or set aside, beyond that.  Take the breaks out of an automobile, or the sugar out of soda, and the thing becomes less inviting.  And, in the dream and in real life, considering these things is painful.  But there was a method created, so that the war Pinocchio could still be a real little boy.  An alternate ego, as common parlance might term it.  A being created from the ashes off all the innocence burned on that pyre of and in sacrifice.

For the most part, when people meet me, it is this that alternate ego they are meeting.  But it is not all they are meeting.  Some know it, others don't.  Whether this is all in my mind, a trick, or if there is something cosmic, divine, or real to it... that I don't know.  I just know... it's as real... no... more real, than I am.  I have no idea how to deal with such dreams, notions, or that reality.  So... I don't.  I see it, I write it out, and I... let it be.  There is some pride, and joy, to and in it.  And some great sadness.  In equal parts, but grand in ways most could not understand without building themselves into a mobile temple fortress.

Well... that was my dream.  Now I will... try to... just live.  Good day.

Tuesday, September 2, 2014

Brutal.

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Not my day.  It is good.  Other than needing another day of rest.  It wasn't completely unforeseen.  I spilled the wind from my sails fairly liberally last week.  My lower back was spasming yesterday and last night.  I couldn't roll to a place that didn't cause problems, or get my legs situated so they didn't cause problems.  Anicin has been a friend.  Now the pain has worked up to the lower part of my shoulder blades.  It almost always, for me, works it's way up.  It is milder, where it is now located.  I honestly wonder if the pain moves up, because as my body braces for the pain, it stiffens and makes itself sore.  The option is that I can, sometimes, only sense just so much pain.  So I feel the worst.  As that fades, I then sense the next worst, and so on.  No worries, but that isn't what this post is about.

As I have said, I used to be a royal sob.  No, you wouldn't have known it from talking to me.  It was how I lived.  Hard.  I played, worked, and socialized in just such a manner.  I made, and broke, women, friends, and coworkers.  I demanded the sky and gave no room for error, sloth, laziness, and such.  Given the givens, that is still true.  I didn't help, nor hurt, I had my own things to do.  I wasn't even happy with perfection, when I could produce it... within mortal constraints mind you.  Hard as steel and twice as cold.  My folk loved to hate me, and I didn't care, regardless of what I said.  And they knew it.  Can't lie with a certain look on your face.  "Sure, that's fine.", I might have said, while viewing them with the same look I give to dead decayed fish.  Harsh.

That, to be honest, hasn't changed much.  I still have to be careful with my expressions.  Children, and even grown women, can cry when I get a sour gloom on my puss and they take it personal, or sometimes even just seeing it.  Hell, my cats will hide, or get that guilty look, at times.  While I have come to God, I am what I was.  I use Him to temper the wrong parts, but do not shield the righteous parts of that.  None shall pass who haven't really thought about things.

I don't even always like what I am.  It would be so much easier to just get along to go along.  It would be much simpler to have no literal or figurative limits, objective realities and qualities that must be met, and such.  I sometimes even dream of being a simpleton... a graced existence in many cases.  Though too, without guilt, there is no real innocence.  It is... a bit of an illusion.  I won't claim to know that area of God's will or His way with it, only... that it is different.  It is hard to attempt to be a right man, especially being a sinner on top of it, and a failure as well.  I simply have no choice.  I was made as God wanted it.  My choices are slim.  I do attempt to afford their use, to benefit, when available and I am able.  Still, as I have mentioned, I am a bastard.  And it is a bitch to be one.

Monday, September 1, 2014

Way late to bed and waking.

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I got... stuck... in the game.  Ah well, it will happen.  Yesterday, pretty much, was a day for no rules.  As such, almost as if I had a bit to sip, which I didn't, I have a bit of a type of hangover.  It's a bit different but has some key features.  It'll pass.  Well, and I have upped my insulin to... 40cc's is it?  Something.  That is making me a bit off.  Actually, when discussing diabetes with a friend who also has diabetes, I suggested they compare and contrast hangovers, drinking in general, and diabetes.  As a past frequent, and heavy, imbiber, and now as a pseudo diabetic, I have felt things very much in common between the two.  Now, they won't.  For being spotlessly secular in it's approach, medicine has created it's own set of sins.  Among those sins is alcohol abuse, despite a particularly nasty problem in the medical field of drug abuse by practitioners.  So, they won't do such studies.  Then again, with as poorly as studies are allowed to be run these days, I'm not sure anything they do is worth doing.  Still, if a legitimate study could be performed, leaving morality, secular or faithful aside, I think a range of projects in this area could yield great benefits to alcoholics, diabetics, and our understanding of how the body uses fuels and why some fuels are so desperately wanted once found.

Just waking up.  I should have a bit of coffee.  Don't want to be caught off guard.  Yes, yes, coffee. I saw a nice relaxing scene, then... saw something just a bit off.  See if you will notice.  Anyway, I thought I would share.  Oh, but this sure makes me hungry.
h/t 90 Miles From Tyranny

There is something in there.  I know, personally, that before they were treating my illness properly, alcohol probably kept me alive.  At times it would get to abuse type levels, but addiction did not occur.  Which means, I suspect, the alcohol relaxed my heart, and rest my undiagnosed... probably at the time occasional... diabetic symptoms back to normal, somehow.  As I have suggested, my diabetes aren't normal, don't track well from what I have heard medical types discuss on the topic.  Fluid is the one thing that can alter my numbers, a bit, but by volume, not type.  A case of beer flushed everything.  But, also, it probably relaxed an overtaxed heart, and maybe did some other things.

No, I don't recommend that medicine.  But if the body has a problem, it will see possible solutions, and use them, if the medical field doesn't deal with the problem.  Funny how that works, and probably, as I have suggested, part of why I am still alive, nearly 30 years after receiving an illness that, left untreated, has a one to three year life expectancy.  But, no, the medical field won't explore areas it considers to be a secular sin, and won't explore medical options that don't make it money.  A perfect pair for a hellbound lot.  Funny thing is, these are the very people to pour derision on the greedy, the wealthy, and even more so on those who believe more in real morality than their version of a health based morality structure.  Oh... right... /rant

Later.

Sunday, August 31, 2014

A day to unwind.

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Good or bad, up or down, regardless of how much I get done compared to how much I intend to do, when I push it wears me out.  I need a few days, at least, each week, where I can set plans aside, not push, and just rest.  God gave us Sunday, but He also gave most people health.  Even so, when most have their choice, they take Saturday too.  While it seems like I take midweek days off, I really don't.  I usually have plans for that day, even if they don't happen.  Or little plans.  Further, even without plans, if the mood hits and something seems obvious, I go ahead and hit that.  Tonight, if I can, for example, there is trash to take out, maybe recycling, and cat litter.  Little else is likely, and what is proposed isn't guaranteed.  However, if I don't do it tonight, the hope is that I will do it early tomorrow.

Tomorrow I need off.  I have been doing, or planning, or traveling, or all and more, all week, right into Saturday.  At least the event Saturday, for me, was light.  I didn't have to drive, and everyone was focused on everything but me, and didn't really have the time or space to just sit, so... for a social event, it was rather easy.  The walking was very slow.  If anything would have gotten to me, it would have been that.  It did, short term, but it wasn't a problem on into today.  And it was mild, as the pace wasn't extremely slow.  Yeah, I know, I'm particular.  Or, really, my body is.

The girls are getting, slowly, used to being fed once a day.  To mitigate things, I am offering them treats in the later afternoon, every day.  I will slowly ween them off those, too, at least daily.  A few times a week is more than enough for treats.  Or, when I am celebrating.  Happy times when the treats flow!  I even let them sleep with me last night, to see if they would be... problematic.  Not at all, surprisingly, mostly.  I will still keep that to just once in a while, or they will begin causing problems.  As with treats, when it is occasional, it is appreciated.  I've almost got them trained, as much as cats can be trained.

I still can't believe, sometimes, how well I am doing for my condition.  Remembering the guys, of my age, being carted in by their wives or whoever, into the heart clinic.  Most of them were on oxygen, some where brought in sitting wheelchairs.  Given the condition of my heart, they couldn't be in worse shape.  They might have other conditions, too, though.  I don't do extremely well, actually poorly, according to the general gist of how living is supposed to be.  It is only when you add perspective that it seems my life is miraculously good.  And I still hope for improvement.  It's doubtful, but not without some hope.

Yes, a few days of relaxation.  Healthy and well enough to push through a tough game.  Eating a bit of rice or quinoa, perhaps amaranth.  I might simply add a can of tuna to some of it, not wanting to cook fish all of the time.  I'm not sure what other meats would steam well, and within the 1/4 to 1/2 hour time?    I won't mess with amaranth much, as it goes bad quickly.  But, as an occasional touch, perhaps added to the others, it might do well.  I'll have to think about it.  I don't like steamed chicken breast, it dries out far too much.  Hmm...

Anyway...  That is it for today, and tomorrow.  Just rest, relaxation, sleep, and fun.

Up and at it.

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I've been up for a bit now, actually.  I did sleep late, but then I went to bed late... I think.  Last night is a blur.  I've been pushing a lot of things, and not just physically.  Planning, organizing, working, tinkering.  Sometimes interconnected, sometimes in little side projects, most of it with some sort of time stamp.  I am not doing everything I want, maybe not even everything I could, technically.  Yet I may be doing more than I should, definitely more than I thought I could, if I am still not happy.  I drive the beast that is my flesh as hard as I can.  Well... today is a day off.  I have visitors arriving later, just in a bit really.  But that isn't a burden.  Mostly, today, it is about relaxing and gaming, most likely.

I do feel the efforts of this last week.  A few days out, a larger project, a bunch of business done and more to come, little efforts here and there, planning, gauging, shuffling, and doing.  I am tired.  As I have mentioned, though, this is the type of tired, and sore, and aching, that I like.  I hope to be done with the negatives, and be back to functioning by Tuesday.  No promises.  If I can't get up, though, guess what?  I won't.  I want to take care of business Tuesday, then shooting Wednesday, if possible.  We'll see.  The rest of next week will be about figuring out, and cleaning, the cave... with a strong emphasis on getting the garage and work shop area arranged. 

Well... on with... relaxing until company arrives.  Good day.