.
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Oh really? I keep hearing about this. The dollar is finished. China will... find something else. Oil will be denominated in... something else. What, exactly? The Euro perhaps? Not a chance. It is destined not to decline but to irrevocably default in less than a decade most likely. All it will take is one or two minor financially troubled nations pulling out of the Euro, leaving their debt of course, for that deck of cards to crumble. With the rioting going on, simple fear of the peasants might leave no option. Chinese currency? No one outside of China buys into it, uses it, or trusts it. Even the Chinese government uses it mostly as it's play thing. They would never invest in their own currency. Oil, gold, silver, platinum? No, all of those are too volatile. Those markets are driven by the rich, for the rich. Even China knows better than to bet against their supposed allies, such as Soros.
The dollar is and will continue to decline. There is no doubt. But to decline may be far better than increase in value. Ask Europeans. Even setting aside the worry about the actual collapse of the Euro, just going by the relative worth of the Euro, it becomes difficult for the average man to split his dollar around. There is no latitude, fiscally speaking, for those on the margins of the economic world. Of course, devaluing such as what happened to the peso is the other side. I do not see that happening any time soon.
So, what is the answer? The answer is, the world goes into economic decline. It is global and will remain so. It looks like those in power have decided rather than to climb up, as a nation here in the US and more broadly world wide, it is better to decline. Governments, worldwide, are doing everything they can to stifle economic growth. Some billionaires are in on it. They get their margins and do not really like competition anyway. But the dollar is not going anywhere soon. It is merely being adjusted to world standards (of poverty). It will probably remain the standard for at least the foreseeable future.
Of course, unless we change politicians and get a good grip on the ears we replace these fobs with, expect a lifestyle not unlike that lived by those in China and Russia. Most will be on the brink of starvation with elites living like kings. Odd, in a nation used to living well, that so many would hand it over in the hopes of some sick notion like diversity. Most are so into their bags of junk (pot, porn, abortion, feminism and other egalitarian socialist ideals, take your pick) that they cannot even see the lies they preach. They are so into it and the untruthful world they have built around the junk of life that they literally cannot and will not see that who they are voting for and what they support has to by necessity of design take away their goodies. Socialism does not have enough to allow for such things. It is on the wrong side of the margins. If anything, that is the shiny side of the coin. Then again, nothing shines in hell quite like 30 pieces of worthless silver by which any man can sell everything. I guess I am saying, in other words, that shiny in some instances is fools gold. Again, put a bit more simply, the bright side of this is not so bright for the cost.
Bah! I need to get going. Good day... mostly.
I wonder and sometimes worry. Herein lie those ponderings with perhaps some editing but still in their truer forms. Whisper as well, though in truth, whispers are just that, rustlings in the wind and nothing more. It is kind to not be alone with one's own whispers.
Friday, January 28, 2011
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Things that bother me to curiosity.
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There were things about Iowa City I did not like. Well, starting with about everything, then moving on. The exceptions were notable. Now, organic foods have no place in my heart, only being somewhat acceptable when fresh, good, standard food was not available and should I have the coin to toss in on it, and then more for special meals. The store that sold organics, the local coop, was a place I knew as my lady friend pretty much lived there. Odd thing about the coops, the people who go there are the most bitter, ruthless, nasty people you would ever want to meet... to include my lady friend, though I think I actually softened her just by extension somehow. Anyway... They sold fish and seafood there, mostly non-organic. And, for whatever reason, it was always absolutely delicious. Further, it was, for whatever reason, less expensive than any of the local markets, including the bigger grocery store chains. The odd thing? I found out they all had the exact same source for the very same food. Same source, same grade, everything. Could the quality be in how the food was handled, how it was thawed, or... what? Cheaper, honestly better, and should you need you could also (safely) store that food in the fridge a few days (though who wants that, but life does intrude).
Just waking up. I had fish last night and... it was retched. No, I cooked it just right. I bought the fish in a big pouch, but inside each fillet had been individually pouched. I thawed it slowly (I have tried several methods of thawing). I have not found a good, trusted, vendor of seafood out here yet. Still looking. Something odd is going on with the food markets. Not just here, but nation and maybe worldwide. I am, struggling with food costs. I could not imagine what someone earning half my income must be feeling. It could not be full, not often. Even those on the fatter double side must be wondering what is going on. Life is tightening to the point where it feels like the Scrooge is handling finances. And, that will make it so good food becomes more and more scarce, I think. Yeah, it bothers me.
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There were things about Iowa City I did not like. Well, starting with about everything, then moving on. The exceptions were notable. Now, organic foods have no place in my heart, only being somewhat acceptable when fresh, good, standard food was not available and should I have the coin to toss in on it, and then more for special meals. The store that sold organics, the local coop, was a place I knew as my lady friend pretty much lived there. Odd thing about the coops, the people who go there are the most bitter, ruthless, nasty people you would ever want to meet... to include my lady friend, though I think I actually softened her just by extension somehow. Anyway... They sold fish and seafood there, mostly non-organic. And, for whatever reason, it was always absolutely delicious. Further, it was, for whatever reason, less expensive than any of the local markets, including the bigger grocery store chains. The odd thing? I found out they all had the exact same source for the very same food. Same source, same grade, everything. Could the quality be in how the food was handled, how it was thawed, or... what? Cheaper, honestly better, and should you need you could also (safely) store that food in the fridge a few days (though who wants that, but life does intrude).
Just waking up. I had fish last night and... it was retched. No, I cooked it just right. I bought the fish in a big pouch, but inside each fillet had been individually pouched. I thawed it slowly (I have tried several methods of thawing). I have not found a good, trusted, vendor of seafood out here yet. Still looking. Something odd is going on with the food markets. Not just here, but nation and maybe worldwide. I am, struggling with food costs. I could not imagine what someone earning half my income must be feeling. It could not be full, not often. Even those on the fatter double side must be wondering what is going on. Life is tightening to the point where it feels like the Scrooge is handling finances. And, that will make it so good food becomes more and more scarce, I think. Yeah, it bothers me.
A bit at a time, as usual.
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It started with just one thing. I did one thing that had been on my mind during a day, and as a planned event. It was minor, I cannot even remember what. But, I did it. Then, some time or days later, I planned another foray into the seeming unknown world of flesh. I planned several things. It builds until I am beginning to do more things. Today was, given recent history, epic. I will not bore you with the details, only that I have done more than I have in a month. And... I am not finished. I have three more scheduled chores and then a treat, fried fish. After which, I will clean the particular mess I made in producing the feast.
Tomorrow? I do not know. Maybe more, maybe no more until the day after. I would love to say, "Why, yes, indeed, tomorrow I will redouble my count and triple the score!", but I know I cannot say that. What I can say is that I try. And when it works, it works well. I hate to jinx things, but I think I am coming back around. To what ends or how well I never know.
Funny, I was thinking just the other day about when I thought merely keeping up on housework, cooking, shopping, and getting out several times a week was so flat. Those, if truly mild, were fantastic days when put in the proper perspective. Odd how easily we forget how fragile and weak we can be. And yet, in spite of it all, how strong we are in spite of even that. My resilience and strength may not be in those direct aspects, but in that I still care enough to give it what I have when I have it. Like the widow and the coin, though it be little compared to the vast gold coin the merchants and princes add to the coffer, what I add is more as it is all I have. Maybe.
Anyway, just thought I would share some joyous news for a change. Be well.
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It started with just one thing. I did one thing that had been on my mind during a day, and as a planned event. It was minor, I cannot even remember what. But, I did it. Then, some time or days later, I planned another foray into the seeming unknown world of flesh. I planned several things. It builds until I am beginning to do more things. Today was, given recent history, epic. I will not bore you with the details, only that I have done more than I have in a month. And... I am not finished. I have three more scheduled chores and then a treat, fried fish. After which, I will clean the particular mess I made in producing the feast.
Tomorrow? I do not know. Maybe more, maybe no more until the day after. I would love to say, "Why, yes, indeed, tomorrow I will redouble my count and triple the score!", but I know I cannot say that. What I can say is that I try. And when it works, it works well. I hate to jinx things, but I think I am coming back around. To what ends or how well I never know.
Funny, I was thinking just the other day about when I thought merely keeping up on housework, cooking, shopping, and getting out several times a week was so flat. Those, if truly mild, were fantastic days when put in the proper perspective. Odd how easily we forget how fragile and weak we can be. And yet, in spite of it all, how strong we are in spite of even that. My resilience and strength may not be in those direct aspects, but in that I still care enough to give it what I have when I have it. Like the widow and the coin, though it be little compared to the vast gold coin the merchants and princes add to the coffer, what I add is more as it is all I have. Maybe.
Anyway, just thought I would share some joyous news for a change. Be well.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
We will see, again...
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I have to push here. Waiting is not working. I am behind three different 8 balls and will have to hit it hard. Still, I am in place again to try. Like a revolver, I can only even try to fire within mechanical limits. It is time to see if there actually is something in the chamber this time, then whether it will take the strike and activate. Well, I know there is something in there. I just do not know if the primer got wet, the powder got wet, or such.
I gave the felines a treat meal tonight. I have been out of milk for two days. When that happens, I bribe them with a little more of the soft stuff they love. I will be going to the store tonight. While cleaning their litter boxes, I noticed something. With two boxes, they choose one for wet (mostly) and one for dry. That may not be brilliant, but that is also not to bad. Cats, for the most part, are of animal intelligence. That does not mean they are without reason. I am a bit amazed at this, especially with pretty much a kitty in the mix.
Well, a shower, shave, some additional grooming, and late as it is to the store I will go. I might even pick up something fast to eat for me. I really have not been eating much. Every other day, give or take, something goes down the gullet. When Sassy gets a little unhappy that her dinner is an hour late, I try to remind her she is eating better than I am. That, I am assured, is of little consequence to the little princess. Heh... Sam is much more laid back. She just lets me know it is time, then wanders off. To be back should telling me once not have done the trick.
Sam is a little smarter than the average cat though. She not only can, but does communicate with me rather well. She can pout, and does. She has moods to be sure. But she can think well outside the box as well. Sassy? Not so much. But she is still a baby. I cannot tell yet if she will grow up to be a cat or grow up to be a mini-person. Both remind me of children though, in furry pajamas.
Well, time to get something going. A little blog reading, a shower, and off I must get. Good night.
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I have to push here. Waiting is not working. I am behind three different 8 balls and will have to hit it hard. Still, I am in place again to try. Like a revolver, I can only even try to fire within mechanical limits. It is time to see if there actually is something in the chamber this time, then whether it will take the strike and activate. Well, I know there is something in there. I just do not know if the primer got wet, the powder got wet, or such.
I gave the felines a treat meal tonight. I have been out of milk for two days. When that happens, I bribe them with a little more of the soft stuff they love. I will be going to the store tonight. While cleaning their litter boxes, I noticed something. With two boxes, they choose one for wet (mostly) and one for dry. That may not be brilliant, but that is also not to bad. Cats, for the most part, are of animal intelligence. That does not mean they are without reason. I am a bit amazed at this, especially with pretty much a kitty in the mix.
Well, a shower, shave, some additional grooming, and late as it is to the store I will go. I might even pick up something fast to eat for me. I really have not been eating much. Every other day, give or take, something goes down the gullet. When Sassy gets a little unhappy that her dinner is an hour late, I try to remind her she is eating better than I am. That, I am assured, is of little consequence to the little princess. Heh... Sam is much more laid back. She just lets me know it is time, then wanders off. To be back should telling me once not have done the trick.
Sam is a little smarter than the average cat though. She not only can, but does communicate with me rather well. She can pout, and does. She has moods to be sure. But she can think well outside the box as well. Sassy? Not so much. But she is still a baby. I cannot tell yet if she will grow up to be a cat or grow up to be a mini-person. Both remind me of children though, in furry pajamas.
Well, time to get something going. A little blog reading, a shower, and off I must get. Good night.
Saturday, January 22, 2011
While I have been doing nothing...
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I have at least managed to level my WoW toon. From 80 to 85, from an AiL (Average Item Level) of... something to 344 (or gs from 5k to 7.5k), and figured out gems, enchants, and such so that the equipment is top geared within capactiy so that Cataclysm heroics are now counted as trivial (if the truth of that depends a whole lot on the group I PUG (pick-up game... think basketball court on the weekends). Normal Cata, as we like to name the recent expansion pack, are trivial. I cannot always keep noobs alive, but I can usually get even a rough group through most of the ground fire (if they are awake, aware, and trying I can keep all alive). Quite a change from my first attempt at healing. Then again, the devs (developer as we lovingly (and not) call them) had to back off on the harsh nerf of healers (they had restricted abilities too much, and to some large degree that remains).
I have 3 toons (oh, what we call characters in the game, and again, sometimes lovingly sometimes not) at level 80, ready to go into the grinder. The good thing is, since my main toon is doing randoms (both heroic and not), I have learned many of the dungeons. That is about a third of the game. Skill at using the toon skills and abilities is a third, and gear is a third. Though two of those can often overcome one of those, to a degree.
Of course, this has required that I do not just do something, but sit there! So, I have. Well, the option would have been to sleep a lot more, so I take it. Trust me. I went without gaming for two years. I had the same wants and wishes. And... I merely slept more, lots more. Television does not do it and my will is no better with or without games. Well, that is my update. I baked a little chicken, as I call them (Cornish game hen), and will be devouring it shortly. Dishes and shopping are on the list tonight. We will see. Oh, and I have been getting coffee in, more regularly. I am hoping to leave soda completely, eventually, but for now will keep it on hand for when caffeine production grinds to a stupid halt. Bah! It happens.
Later.
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I have at least managed to level my WoW toon. From 80 to 85, from an AiL (Average Item Level) of... something to 344 (or gs from 5k to 7.5k), and figured out gems, enchants, and such so that the equipment is top geared within capactiy so that Cataclysm heroics are now counted as trivial (if the truth of that depends a whole lot on the group I PUG (pick-up game... think basketball court on the weekends). Normal Cata, as we like to name the recent expansion pack, are trivial. I cannot always keep noobs alive, but I can usually get even a rough group through most of the ground fire (if they are awake, aware, and trying I can keep all alive). Quite a change from my first attempt at healing. Then again, the devs (developer as we lovingly (and not) call them) had to back off on the harsh nerf of healers (they had restricted abilities too much, and to some large degree that remains).
I have 3 toons (oh, what we call characters in the game, and again, sometimes lovingly sometimes not) at level 80, ready to go into the grinder. The good thing is, since my main toon is doing randoms (both heroic and not), I have learned many of the dungeons. That is about a third of the game. Skill at using the toon skills and abilities is a third, and gear is a third. Though two of those can often overcome one of those, to a degree.
Of course, this has required that I do not just do something, but sit there! So, I have. Well, the option would have been to sleep a lot more, so I take it. Trust me. I went without gaming for two years. I had the same wants and wishes. And... I merely slept more, lots more. Television does not do it and my will is no better with or without games. Well, that is my update. I baked a little chicken, as I call them (Cornish game hen), and will be devouring it shortly. Dishes and shopping are on the list tonight. We will see. Oh, and I have been getting coffee in, more regularly. I am hoping to leave soda completely, eventually, but for now will keep it on hand for when caffeine production grinds to a stupid halt. Bah! It happens.
Later.
I have heard it three times.
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Three times, I say, recently, I have heard that I would be a good catch or something along those lines. Now, being a rational man, I stop and think. Ah, if I have heard this from three different people, two men and a woman, it must be wrong. I have so little to offer. I sleep a odd schedule. I am messy. I definitely have some problems. I am not violent, I do not drink heavily (or almost at all these days), I make some limited money, I "have" a house, but there really is not all that much there a woman could like. Attitude or how I deal with women and life is something they have liked in the past. Be the boss, they will do the work, sometimes happily.
No, it just does not make sense. Oh, I would love to have a wife. Fine creatures, if they put their mind to it. They are the only way to a full family and a major part of it. Not always the brightest tulips in the field, but their efforts and variety of knowledge bases can easily make up for that (think broadband versus high speed maybe?). Yeah, yeah, I dig holes by telling it like I see it. And yet, that seems a better hook to the free range women I have met than being nice ever will be. Attitude, at least without even meaning to be mean.
Just wondering what the heck people are thinking these days. Will they not let a sleeping dog lay, lie? Both? Anywhile, such talk disturbs the smooth pool that is the surface of my mind. Deep or shallow, I do like the surface smooth. Well, not really, or I would not have a cat and kitten. But that is the story that I am sticking with at the moment. Explain why you think I would be a catch... Crazy talk...
Good night, morning for you all probably. Later.
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Three times, I say, recently, I have heard that I would be a good catch or something along those lines. Now, being a rational man, I stop and think. Ah, if I have heard this from three different people, two men and a woman, it must be wrong. I have so little to offer. I sleep a odd schedule. I am messy. I definitely have some problems. I am not violent, I do not drink heavily (or almost at all these days), I make some limited money, I "have" a house, but there really is not all that much there a woman could like. Attitude or how I deal with women and life is something they have liked in the past. Be the boss, they will do the work, sometimes happily.
No, it just does not make sense. Oh, I would love to have a wife. Fine creatures, if they put their mind to it. They are the only way to a full family and a major part of it. Not always the brightest tulips in the field, but their efforts and variety of knowledge bases can easily make up for that (think broadband versus high speed maybe?). Yeah, yeah, I dig holes by telling it like I see it. And yet, that seems a better hook to the free range women I have met than being nice ever will be. Attitude, at least without even meaning to be mean.
Just wondering what the heck people are thinking these days. Will they not let a sleeping dog lay, lie? Both? Anywhile, such talk disturbs the smooth pool that is the surface of my mind. Deep or shallow, I do like the surface smooth. Well, not really, or I would not have a cat and kitten. But that is the story that I am sticking with at the moment. Explain why you think I would be a catch... Crazy talk...
Good night, morning for you all probably. Later.
Friday, January 21, 2011
Oh, right.
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Someone has been chewing up my time posting here and I have not, until today, chastised her properly by adding her blog to my roll. Well, take that you wonder type! You know of whom I speak.
Okay, so my rocket powered re-entry into the world of the living wend ka-poof. I am still plotting my exodus from my frozen wastelands, though I am starting to wonder. Like the cat who (should say which, but... Sam is watching as I write) plots to get outside and RUN AWAY, only to, when outside, realize inside is... has... advantages teh hard-sh world does not, we both crumble. Only, I really do like outside. For... visits anyway. Whatever, I will keep plotting. I will keep trying. And who knows, I might just make it.
The weather has been fantastic. I really wanted to go out. Then again, where would I go and what would I do? I am no longer familiar with that world. I only know one human close enough to visit. There are things to do, but they all cost money. Hmm, walking. I really ought to get my kit together and go for little walks. With the warm weather, the road crew has taken the opportunity to clear the road skirts. Still, it could get really messy with traffic going by. Anyway... Plotting to get out without a plan to do something when out will lead to abject failure. Hmm, maybe a drive to Smithfield, a trip on the shuttle to Logan, and then a walk? Too much time, I get tired and... just want to go home. Very tired. Very quickly. Okay, WW, this is Mamby Pamby land. Ah, now I see it. It's... tucked in the details... innit? Yeah.
Anyway, let me... try to clear some baffles and get going. Yes, I know I am like a kitten stuck in a ball of yarn, struggling against my own prison... to a degree. The threads, now, are real. How do I simply walk away? Stuck. I am hoping they have some form of therapy that allows me to not unravel but to learn to not play losing games. I will seek this. I know it relates to a life of losses and pain. Stuff I cannot see or feel anymore. Ghost threads of teh killerz kitteh!
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Someone has been chewing up my time posting here and I have not, until today, chastised her properly by adding her blog to my roll. Well, take that you wonder type! You know of whom I speak.
Okay, so my rocket powered re-entry into the world of the living wend ka-poof. I am still plotting my exodus from my frozen wastelands, though I am starting to wonder. Like the cat who (should say which, but... Sam is watching as I write) plots to get outside and RUN AWAY, only to, when outside, realize inside is... has... advantages teh hard-sh world does not, we both crumble. Only, I really do like outside. For... visits anyway. Whatever, I will keep plotting. I will keep trying. And who knows, I might just make it.
The weather has been fantastic. I really wanted to go out. Then again, where would I go and what would I do? I am no longer familiar with that world. I only know one human close enough to visit. There are things to do, but they all cost money. Hmm, walking. I really ought to get my kit together and go for little walks. With the warm weather, the road crew has taken the opportunity to clear the road skirts. Still, it could get really messy with traffic going by. Anyway... Plotting to get out without a plan to do something when out will lead to abject failure. Hmm, maybe a drive to Smithfield, a trip on the shuttle to Logan, and then a walk? Too much time, I get tired and... just want to go home. Very tired. Very quickly. Okay, WW, this is Mamby Pamby land. Ah, now I see it. It's... tucked in the details... innit? Yeah.
Anyway, let me... try to clear some baffles and get going. Yes, I know I am like a kitten stuck in a ball of yarn, struggling against my own prison... to a degree. The threads, now, are real. How do I simply walk away? Stuck. I am hoping they have some form of therapy that allows me to not unravel but to learn to not play losing games. I will seek this. I know it relates to a life of losses and pain. Stuff I cannot see or feel anymore. Ghost threads of teh killerz kitteh!
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Reality is knocking at my door.
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Should I grant it access?
I woke this morning to try and figure out how to extricate myself from the discombobulated aspects of my near recent walk through the non-garden section of life as we know it here and now. Or, I am hoping this is the day I will figure out how to take care of some nagging chores and check on some bills and figure out what is going on with the V.A. Well, the world wanted to give me incentive and throw a wrench into the works. The hot water heater is dripping, down (and out) the drain connector where one would connect a hose to drain the device before repairs or replacement. So, I will need to figure this, too, out today... or... soon.
A shower. The first in... read "or... soon." above and you will have some idea. I lost track. Ah, but it FEELS SOOOO GOOD! I somehow doubt people who bath or shower every day or at worst every other day have any idea how good that first shower in 'x' days feels. After I do some waking up, check on some things, then can relax a bit later this evening, I am contemplating a soak bath then another shower. I love baths but, even if clean going in I feel grungy coming out. And I hate the hair thing. I cannot easily wash my hair in a bath. Baths were made for littlen's. At 6'4" and 260, most baths are tight. I get about two buckets of water in with me is all, it seems. Still, a bath is on my menu.
I have a question for you. I am battling, and losing harshly, my exhaustion. The caffeine I take helps me maintain an absolute scrub high minimum. I know if I add sugar, I can raise that bar and do more, on a short term basis. I also know that, sugar is a slow but sure poison to me. My diabetes seems to be under control through food alone. Do I take poison to gain altitude or stay in this prison of ice until it eventually thaws? What would you do? Mirror mirror on the wall, who is the lamest of them all? Well, do not just do something, SIT THERE! hah
Well, on to waking up. Have a good day.
.
Should I grant it access?
I woke this morning to try and figure out how to extricate myself from the discombobulated aspects of my near recent walk through the non-garden section of life as we know it here and now. Or, I am hoping this is the day I will figure out how to take care of some nagging chores and check on some bills and figure out what is going on with the V.A. Well, the world wanted to give me incentive and throw a wrench into the works. The hot water heater is dripping, down (and out) the drain connector where one would connect a hose to drain the device before repairs or replacement. So, I will need to figure this, too, out today... or... soon.
A shower. The first in... read "or... soon." above and you will have some idea. I lost track. Ah, but it FEELS SOOOO GOOD! I somehow doubt people who bath or shower every day or at worst every other day have any idea how good that first shower in 'x' days feels. After I do some waking up, check on some things, then can relax a bit later this evening, I am contemplating a soak bath then another shower. I love baths but, even if clean going in I feel grungy coming out. And I hate the hair thing. I cannot easily wash my hair in a bath. Baths were made for littlen's. At 6'4" and 260, most baths are tight. I get about two buckets of water in with me is all, it seems. Still, a bath is on my menu.
I have a question for you. I am battling, and losing harshly, my exhaustion. The caffeine I take helps me maintain an absolute scrub high minimum. I know if I add sugar, I can raise that bar and do more, on a short term basis. I also know that, sugar is a slow but sure poison to me. My diabetes seems to be under control through food alone. Do I take poison to gain altitude or stay in this prison of ice until it eventually thaws? What would you do? Mirror mirror on the wall, who is the lamest of them all? Well, do not just do something, SIT THERE! hah
Well, on to waking up. Have a good day.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Critical thinking waxing?
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Say it is not so! Anyone who talks to young people and many adults has to have come to this conclusion long ago. Not that it is a new phenomenon. It was just so, for the majority of people, for the majority of time. And, sometimes, it is rightly just so. A man who is living on the margins, even as a professional or craftsman or such, simply cannot afford to dream, not too much. As well, changing how he does things too much can be catastrophic, even if done correctly for the most part, due to social norms, tradition, and parts or other availability. It can become a tangled web very quickly. As well, who can or really wants to reinvent the wheel every single day?
Schools teach people to not critically think. They do not directly emphasize group think, they do encourage it for simplicity on their part. If everyone was exactly equal, save their pet smart kids who go into their pet smart classes, who are no better at critical thought but are more interested and possibly able in a few areas, life would be so much easier. And the smart kids can simply be led astray by the system's pet smart kid teacher. Never met a moral ap teacher. Then again, I only met a few teachers with much morals of which to speak. No, Johny, social equality is not moral. Bah!
Television does little to improve critical thinking. Games actually can, if you are willing to invest the time in slowing down leveling and learn what you are doing to try and improve your performance or tweak how well you can perform. For some large portion of the gaming world, however, it is all about gaining another level, a few more gold, or a new mount, ignoring any learning lessons whatsoever. They use cookie cutter builds, components, equipment, and either work longer or take longer. Though short cuts through critical thinking are as apt to fail as not. Actually more so. Much like academics, when it was interested in doing so, it is the journey not necessarily the ends. Looking for the needle in the haystack rarely yields needles, is messy, and can be frustrating. Besides, who needs needles? Either do it because you enjoy the hunt or get out of the critical thinking game. (Ever known a critical thinker who does not lose often? Self admittedly? Then you have never known a critical thinker.)
Me you ask? I try to optimize, when I can function. But I am no true critical thinker. I like to think I am, I can 'go deep' sometimes, and sometimes I can and do crack a code or two. But I would not wish to live there. It is intellectual race car driving. One error and you are trashed on the side of the 'mind road'. Your opponents do not have pity or sympathy. And, your work often comes to naught. I try to save those skills for the moral of life. How should I react to this man who just did so and such? Is forgiveness just to be given without it being begged? How does God interact with the world and me? Still, I cannot completely leave out things on terra firma. My flesh abides here, and sometimes my intellect. And it is interesting to tinker, albeit knowing I will never know all, most, or even the better part of a small chunk of it, let alone optimize what I know. Given that, there you go. Critical thinker or not, that is where I am and part of how I operate here. What about you?
Enough. I blather like a little girl. But the thoughts, when triggered, just flow. And, the questions begin. Answers roll in, but always bringing with them even more questions until I run a thing down to as far as I wish to go, spending more time than I want usually. Ah, but I enjoy the trip. Good day.
.
Say it is not so! Anyone who talks to young people and many adults has to have come to this conclusion long ago. Not that it is a new phenomenon. It was just so, for the majority of people, for the majority of time. And, sometimes, it is rightly just so. A man who is living on the margins, even as a professional or craftsman or such, simply cannot afford to dream, not too much. As well, changing how he does things too much can be catastrophic, even if done correctly for the most part, due to social norms, tradition, and parts or other availability. It can become a tangled web very quickly. As well, who can or really wants to reinvent the wheel every single day?
Schools teach people to not critically think. They do not directly emphasize group think, they do encourage it for simplicity on their part. If everyone was exactly equal, save their pet smart kids who go into their pet smart classes, who are no better at critical thought but are more interested and possibly able in a few areas, life would be so much easier. And the smart kids can simply be led astray by the system's pet smart kid teacher. Never met a moral ap teacher. Then again, I only met a few teachers with much morals of which to speak. No, Johny, social equality is not moral. Bah!
Television does little to improve critical thinking. Games actually can, if you are willing to invest the time in slowing down leveling and learn what you are doing to try and improve your performance or tweak how well you can perform. For some large portion of the gaming world, however, it is all about gaining another level, a few more gold, or a new mount, ignoring any learning lessons whatsoever. They use cookie cutter builds, components, equipment, and either work longer or take longer. Though short cuts through critical thinking are as apt to fail as not. Actually more so. Much like academics, when it was interested in doing so, it is the journey not necessarily the ends. Looking for the needle in the haystack rarely yields needles, is messy, and can be frustrating. Besides, who needs needles? Either do it because you enjoy the hunt or get out of the critical thinking game. (Ever known a critical thinker who does not lose often? Self admittedly? Then you have never known a critical thinker.)
Me you ask? I try to optimize, when I can function. But I am no true critical thinker. I like to think I am, I can 'go deep' sometimes, and sometimes I can and do crack a code or two. But I would not wish to live there. It is intellectual race car driving. One error and you are trashed on the side of the 'mind road'. Your opponents do not have pity or sympathy. And, your work often comes to naught. I try to save those skills for the moral of life. How should I react to this man who just did so and such? Is forgiveness just to be given without it being begged? How does God interact with the world and me? Still, I cannot completely leave out things on terra firma. My flesh abides here, and sometimes my intellect. And it is interesting to tinker, albeit knowing I will never know all, most, or even the better part of a small chunk of it, let alone optimize what I know. Given that, there you go. Critical thinker or not, that is where I am and part of how I operate here. What about you?
Enough. I blather like a little girl. But the thoughts, when triggered, just flow. And, the questions begin. Answers roll in, but always bringing with them even more questions until I run a thing down to as far as I wish to go, spending more time than I want usually. Ah, but I enjoy the trip. Good day.
Oh, who says you cannot have it all?
.
.
Hmm, I would like to say God. But, as I see things, He has given us everything including the opportunity to be His immortal children. I am not sure exactly what that means, but taken literally, it means an awful lot. No, we are our limiters. We limit ourselves on earth, we might nix heaven, it is not God who does this. Our sins, if nothing else, have lead us to the failings of flesh which might be our binds, as is my case. Not my personal sins, our original sin, is what got us here.
Blathering. Fine. Oh, but I did get some things done today. Not much. More than I had expected if only what I had hoped. I am again trying to dig out of the hole I am in. We will see. I feel almost like a groundhog. I wonder if they ever figure out it is merely their shadow that scares them back into their hole? Then again, without that fear, given their many limitations, the ones who figure it out and do not scurry do not live to create another iteration of the fearless sort. I do not, like them probably, know what my "shadow" is. But just as surely as they, it drives me back into my hole. Fairly I suppose. How many times can a guy die or be close enough to it to realize the fundamental reality of it before... losing his edge... or gaining it as some might prefer to suggest? A even dozen would do it, and that is about my count.
Still, I will sally forth as soon as I... can? will? I hate the cave. It is a good cave. It is, sort of, my cave. I have friends here. I have things to do. Being stuck, I would guess, even in heaven if one should not wish to be there, would be... difficult. And stuck I am. Sam. With green ham. When I... leave that out too long. Ha. Blathering. Tired. Bedtime.
Good night.
.
Hmm, I would like to say God. But, as I see things, He has given us everything including the opportunity to be His immortal children. I am not sure exactly what that means, but taken literally, it means an awful lot. No, we are our limiters. We limit ourselves on earth, we might nix heaven, it is not God who does this. Our sins, if nothing else, have lead us to the failings of flesh which might be our binds, as is my case. Not my personal sins, our original sin, is what got us here.
Blathering. Fine. Oh, but I did get some things done today. Not much. More than I had expected if only what I had hoped. I am again trying to dig out of the hole I am in. We will see. I feel almost like a groundhog. I wonder if they ever figure out it is merely their shadow that scares them back into their hole? Then again, without that fear, given their many limitations, the ones who figure it out and do not scurry do not live to create another iteration of the fearless sort. I do not, like them probably, know what my "shadow" is. But just as surely as they, it drives me back into my hole. Fairly I suppose. How many times can a guy die or be close enough to it to realize the fundamental reality of it before... losing his edge... or gaining it as some might prefer to suggest? A even dozen would do it, and that is about my count.
Still, I will sally forth as soon as I... can? will? I hate the cave. It is a good cave. It is, sort of, my cave. I have friends here. I have things to do. Being stuck, I would guess, even in heaven if one should not wish to be there, would be... difficult. And stuck I am. Sam. With green ham. When I... leave that out too long. Ha. Blathering. Tired. Bedtime.
Good night.
Monday, January 17, 2011
Crash helmet anyone?
.
.
Pounding my head against the walls to try and get my legs back under me. I do have a headache and the wall looks sort of funny now. Legs remain firmly dispossessed of function. Well, that was fun. Perhaps I ought to become a goth cutter girl? Bah, it would not work, I cannot enjoy pain like the rest of you lucky saps. No, I will simply have to figure out the tangle and get one thread apart at a time. The threads appear faster than I can work though. It is a darn good thing they retired me. Then again, I do not think there was much choice. They nor I could change that.
I did do a few things today, and might do a few more. Dinner and a movie, something for the headache, trash out, dishes set to soak, again. And maybe bedtime if I can coax the neurons to cease and desist. It is not all that much but it would be a recent record level of activity. Just what else I have done today is record setting. I need to make a goal to get the house cleaned up, dishes done, and driveway cleared so that I can have my friend for dinner. Right after I win the lottery (which I do not play)? Could be, but that is... the focus. If there is such a thing.
Well, good night. Probably. It is good here, just a little frustratingly slow. Be well.
.
Pounding my head against the walls to try and get my legs back under me. I do have a headache and the wall looks sort of funny now. Legs remain firmly dispossessed of function. Well, that was fun. Perhaps I ought to become a goth cutter girl? Bah, it would not work, I cannot enjoy pain like the rest of you lucky saps. No, I will simply have to figure out the tangle and get one thread apart at a time. The threads appear faster than I can work though. It is a darn good thing they retired me. Then again, I do not think there was much choice. They nor I could change that.
I did do a few things today, and might do a few more. Dinner and a movie, something for the headache, trash out, dishes set to soak, again. And maybe bedtime if I can coax the neurons to cease and desist. It is not all that much but it would be a recent record level of activity. Just what else I have done today is record setting. I need to make a goal to get the house cleaned up, dishes done, and driveway cleared so that I can have my friend for dinner. Right after I win the lottery (which I do not play)? Could be, but that is... the focus. If there is such a thing.
Well, good night. Probably. It is good here, just a little frustratingly slow. Be well.
Friday, January 14, 2011
With the right tools...
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.
Coffee was good, but even two pots a day was not enough. Perhaps it simply is not the best type of caffeine transference for my system? It can give me a jolt. It is tasty, served the way I like it or even not to be honest and with the right basic ingredients, but it does not function to keep me up. Soda does, for whatever reason, help me stay awake. I would like to add coffee, maybe even to switch over to it. Right now I can do little more than stay awake. So, we will see.
Wretchedly tired this morning but I did wake before the alarm. I gave myself eight hours to sleep, rather than push right at this moment in my life events. For the second day in a row I was up and at it before the alarm. With a longer term goal to make 6:00 my waking time, I think my body is just trying to comply. And in spite of, as I said, being very tired, I am able to do this. I feel like a clown telling you about such small successes, at times. Anyone who did not understand would think it laughable. And, I suppose, it is. For me it is as big as a sometimes quadriplegic being able to move a few fingers. Which, too, is to some laughable. Then again, some people should be beaten around the head and shoulders on a regular basis, rotten to the core, as my father used to tease was my case. Tease? Mostly, generally, jovially. I tease, mostly, if not so convivially. Hmm, maybe he was right. Maybe I am. Could we both be correct? Could Beee!
I am not sure what I am doing today. It will be a test to stay up until bedtime. Perhaps I can dig into some chores, mail my package, cook some food, or otherwise be a typical human. For now my goal is to stay awake as long as I can on two of my eight cylinders cranking. I am avoiding hills, high altitude running, and even downhill runs in case the gas in my tank should reach such a tipping point that the engine dies. Steady as she goes, one quarter steam ahead, damn the... pillows? Yes, indeed. That is all.
Have a good day.
.
Coffee was good, but even two pots a day was not enough. Perhaps it simply is not the best type of caffeine transference for my system? It can give me a jolt. It is tasty, served the way I like it or even not to be honest and with the right basic ingredients, but it does not function to keep me up. Soda does, for whatever reason, help me stay awake. I would like to add coffee, maybe even to switch over to it. Right now I can do little more than stay awake. So, we will see.
Wretchedly tired this morning but I did wake before the alarm. I gave myself eight hours to sleep, rather than push right at this moment in my life events. For the second day in a row I was up and at it before the alarm. With a longer term goal to make 6:00 my waking time, I think my body is just trying to comply. And in spite of, as I said, being very tired, I am able to do this. I feel like a clown telling you about such small successes, at times. Anyone who did not understand would think it laughable. And, I suppose, it is. For me it is as big as a sometimes quadriplegic being able to move a few fingers. Which, too, is to some laughable. Then again, some people should be beaten around the head and shoulders on a regular basis, rotten to the core, as my father used to tease was my case. Tease? Mostly, generally, jovially. I tease, mostly, if not so convivially. Hmm, maybe he was right. Maybe I am. Could we both be correct? Could Beee!
I am not sure what I am doing today. It will be a test to stay up until bedtime. Perhaps I can dig into some chores, mail my package, cook some food, or otherwise be a typical human. For now my goal is to stay awake as long as I can on two of my eight cylinders cranking. I am avoiding hills, high altitude running, and even downhill runs in case the gas in my tank should reach such a tipping point that the engine dies. Steady as she goes, one quarter steam ahead, damn the... pillows? Yes, indeed. That is all.
Have a good day.
Odd?
.
.
Perhaps. This whole thing about Gifford being shot... really, it is not of importance. If that was you or I it would not be news. And, so it is not, for me. If I am going to worry about people, it is the people in the margins or below them. People who have little protections, who have no power, who have never known even the level of wealth this woman knew, who have never known real success. These are the ones who concern me. Not some woman who pretty much had it all, as far as women go. No, that is not the odd part.
I keep considering the woman who is representing the shooter. That, to me, is odd. No, I do not hope she "wins". I do not wish to see that man loose. Neither do I want to see her attacked for doing exactly what the law, on paper and in spirit, lays forth. I do not always like the notion that people receive legal council which could free them from real guilt. I do not like that. As with gun rights and the costs associated with those rights, I would rather have a fair system in which some incorrectly are released than one in which there exists no truth in law. It is a price for a given outcome, in an imperfect world. I worry more about her than Gifford.
We are in a spot, here, politically, with real threats to many of our rights, because many of us (the majority) would not agree on a candidate. Then again, I think McCain was rigged in to lose. Whether by Democrats or the RNC, or both, it does not matter. Still, we did not take charge, put our people in place, get out and nix McCain, and we are here because of it. I hope we have learned. We will be paying for this mistake for the rest of our lives. The children of this generation's grandchildren will be paying for it. I guess our only hope is that they will learn from our failings and simply pay the piper without becoming a slave to him. We will see.
A good day today. My friend and myself made it to Ogden. He bought powder, bullets, and cases for his chosen ammunition. I found a book I have been looking to buy. We shopped several stores, finding bits in each. Then a dinner out. Oh that was good. The drive to Ogden was fine, the drive back was a little spooky. The pass, when it snows, is blizzard like. Winds are always going up there, winter or summer. A little snow and the road becomes invisible. As well, at the lower elevations on that side, it was raining then snowing. The fear of freezing was there. We made it back, safe and sound. I remembered to snag extra soda and another gallon of milk before retiring from the world for a bit. I still need to do some mailing, in time.
That is that. Have a good night. Yes, yes, I will pray for Gifford et. al. Sincerely. Any who come to my knowledge in such a fashion receive prayers. It is just... what about all those nameless who her policies and beliefs have maimed and killed who go unnamed, who receive no justice, who are unknown and often forgotten? Socialists are not high on my list, save as enemies. And, as I have mentioned, I pray for those as well. Done.
.
Perhaps. This whole thing about Gifford being shot... really, it is not of importance. If that was you or I it would not be news. And, so it is not, for me. If I am going to worry about people, it is the people in the margins or below them. People who have little protections, who have no power, who have never known even the level of wealth this woman knew, who have never known real success. These are the ones who concern me. Not some woman who pretty much had it all, as far as women go. No, that is not the odd part.
I keep considering the woman who is representing the shooter. That, to me, is odd. No, I do not hope she "wins". I do not wish to see that man loose. Neither do I want to see her attacked for doing exactly what the law, on paper and in spirit, lays forth. I do not always like the notion that people receive legal council which could free them from real guilt. I do not like that. As with gun rights and the costs associated with those rights, I would rather have a fair system in which some incorrectly are released than one in which there exists no truth in law. It is a price for a given outcome, in an imperfect world. I worry more about her than Gifford.
We are in a spot, here, politically, with real threats to many of our rights, because many of us (the majority) would not agree on a candidate. Then again, I think McCain was rigged in to lose. Whether by Democrats or the RNC, or both, it does not matter. Still, we did not take charge, put our people in place, get out and nix McCain, and we are here because of it. I hope we have learned. We will be paying for this mistake for the rest of our lives. The children of this generation's grandchildren will be paying for it. I guess our only hope is that they will learn from our failings and simply pay the piper without becoming a slave to him. We will see.
A good day today. My friend and myself made it to Ogden. He bought powder, bullets, and cases for his chosen ammunition. I found a book I have been looking to buy. We shopped several stores, finding bits in each. Then a dinner out. Oh that was good. The drive to Ogden was fine, the drive back was a little spooky. The pass, when it snows, is blizzard like. Winds are always going up there, winter or summer. A little snow and the road becomes invisible. As well, at the lower elevations on that side, it was raining then snowing. The fear of freezing was there. We made it back, safe and sound. I remembered to snag extra soda and another gallon of milk before retiring from the world for a bit. I still need to do some mailing, in time.
That is that. Have a good night. Yes, yes, I will pray for Gifford et. al. Sincerely. Any who come to my knowledge in such a fashion receive prayers. It is just... what about all those nameless who her policies and beliefs have maimed and killed who go unnamed, who receive no justice, who are unknown and often forgotten? Socialists are not high on my list, save as enemies. And, as I have mentioned, I pray for those as well. Done.
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
I am an offal man.
.
.
Terribly offal. First tongue, now heart. I was really hungry tonight, almost could not wait to cook. I had purchased heart not long ago. I recently thawed it. The two, hunger and availability, finally came together to produce dinner tonight. I will probably explore other organ meats as I can. I would, as I have suggested, try fresh beef blood, so long as it was from good stock and such. It is an African thing, a specific tribe actually, the tall ones. Started, for them, with human blood. The blood of their enemies. Later it changed to milk because we Christians became downright Roman about the whole cannibalism thing. Most likely they are tall because of blood. Now, they drink it warm and fresh, sometimes (often) mixed with warm fresh milk. And, they do not kill the beast to get the blood. Interesting. For my part, I want the blood, the steak, the heart, liver, tongue, and brains (the latter I have yet to try as well, supply being... difficult due to regulations and such).
How was it, you might ask, and fairly. Well, a lot like tongue. It is more dense then liver but a good deal tastier. Liver can be, usually is, very strong tasting, iron maybe? I still sometimes really enjoy liver, not always. It has a taste somewhat unique, save for tongue I have tasted nothing else quite like it. It does not taste like beef really, more like a slightly spongy slightly meaty beef flavored mushroom? Yes, something like that. I will work on the explanation. I hope, like tongue when cooled and sliced, it makes perfect sandwich meat. I did not add garlic, but I think if I had it would have had a similar twang to it. Anyway, I am satisfied. As a diner, a cook, and a foodie. And I have another food possibility for the future.
Well, back to doing little. I did not get things done today. I did not actually expect I would. I hoped, I considered, I was tired. Too many days on the road have left me too tired. And I go again tomorrow. I will see to it the things I need to send are sent tomorrow along with the rest of the days affairs.
Good night. I hope you honestly understand that I personally and really love you. As a friend, kin, and just as a human being. No requirements. Again, good night.
.
Terribly offal. First tongue, now heart. I was really hungry tonight, almost could not wait to cook. I had purchased heart not long ago. I recently thawed it. The two, hunger and availability, finally came together to produce dinner tonight. I will probably explore other organ meats as I can. I would, as I have suggested, try fresh beef blood, so long as it was from good stock and such. It is an African thing, a specific tribe actually, the tall ones. Started, for them, with human blood. The blood of their enemies. Later it changed to milk because we Christians became downright Roman about the whole cannibalism thing. Most likely they are tall because of blood. Now, they drink it warm and fresh, sometimes (often) mixed with warm fresh milk. And, they do not kill the beast to get the blood. Interesting. For my part, I want the blood, the steak, the heart, liver, tongue, and brains (the latter I have yet to try as well, supply being... difficult due to regulations and such).
How was it, you might ask, and fairly. Well, a lot like tongue. It is more dense then liver but a good deal tastier. Liver can be, usually is, very strong tasting, iron maybe? I still sometimes really enjoy liver, not always. It has a taste somewhat unique, save for tongue I have tasted nothing else quite like it. It does not taste like beef really, more like a slightly spongy slightly meaty beef flavored mushroom? Yes, something like that. I will work on the explanation. I hope, like tongue when cooled and sliced, it makes perfect sandwich meat. I did not add garlic, but I think if I had it would have had a similar twang to it. Anyway, I am satisfied. As a diner, a cook, and a foodie. And I have another food possibility for the future.
Well, back to doing little. I did not get things done today. I did not actually expect I would. I hoped, I considered, I was tired. Too many days on the road have left me too tired. And I go again tomorrow. I will see to it the things I need to send are sent tomorrow along with the rest of the days affairs.
Good night. I hope you honestly understand that I personally and really love you. As a friend, kin, and just as a human being. No requirements. Again, good night.
Not better.
.
.
The meds don't seem to be touching it. They put me on a bunch more today, and at first I agreed. Doc (new one) sent me down to pharmacy but they didn't have anything listed. On the way home, I realized there is no way I can take those meds. I will call pharmacy tomorrow and tell them to hold those meds. Until this one med I am on, which I seem to be tolerating, has a chance and until I know if I can even take it for long, I will not take even one more. These idiots are just that, trying to shove medicines at me, ignoring everything I am saying to them. If they want to put me in the hospital where I know I will be safe, fed, and comfy, with access to my computer, I will not do it. I might even give up access to the machine, but I won't go comatose here at home, I cannot take care of myself, my bills, or anything. Wait, I cannot go to the hospital, I have cats to tend, bills to pay, and such. *sigh* Oh, the 24 hour bp monitor they installed... failed after about 12 hours. I think trying to pump that high so often, and maybe it sometimes being out of range so having to redo it often, caused the battery to fail, mostly. It was not even showing the time when it failed, just a line of bars and continual weak attempts to pump every five minutes. Oh well, I tried. I AM hard on machines, and nerves. Heh!
Blood pressure was down just a wee bit, a few points top and bottom. I am set for a clinic which works with those with difficult to treat high blood pressure and psychology to see if more trauma work might help. I will look over what psychology has to offer. No groups, usually a bunch of momma's boys or sissy girls who piss themselves at the thought of being in control, and that is the therapist in charge. Not my game. No Freudian therapy either, talking, one way, does nothing. I will need interactive sessions. If they cannot do it, I do not need what else is available. Already tried it. We will see. Might just have to back away, slowly but surely, from "care" once again. These people are nuts, even the regular doctors, deaf too.
Oh well, at least I am getting out a bit. It has been brutal getting up and out. It is a tough time for me. Sometime tomorrow I am hoping to get to the post office and mail my lady friend those items, pictures, birthday card, and check. It will be something to do. One more day out of the house will be tough. And Thursday I am taking my friend to Ogden, so no break there. But it will not be on a schedule... Sometime in the afternoon, so I can sleep a little longer if needed. Same with tomorrow, plus tomorrow will be short and sweet. I might even just walk there.
Cats are mad at popo (me). Two days gone and they are not getting their daily recommended doses of loving. Sassy attacked me tonight, while playing my game, just to let me know she needs some of my time too. Or because she is just a butt. Hard to tell. But I gave her some loving anywhile. Butt. Sam is... just being a woman. A little distant, a little stand-offish, a shoulder turned away, yeah... I know that. Reminds me of when I could not remember to put the lid down for most of my thirty plus lady loves. Oh, more, right after she figures out the mechanical squat failure with a butt induced shower at midnight... Yeah, them were the days. Heh! Oh, by the way, I have learned. I keep in practice too. Though a week or two of quiet was nice back in the day. Just... saying.
Anyway, back to winding down (up) gaming. Good night though. I will pray for you, some of you specifically, as I know your names. Some of you not so much by name, but by being enemy or friend, good or evil in heading, in pain, in joy, in doubt, in hope. You will be in there somewhere. Good night.
.
The meds don't seem to be touching it. They put me on a bunch more today, and at first I agreed. Doc (new one) sent me down to pharmacy but they didn't have anything listed. On the way home, I realized there is no way I can take those meds. I will call pharmacy tomorrow and tell them to hold those meds. Until this one med I am on, which I seem to be tolerating, has a chance and until I know if I can even take it for long, I will not take even one more. These idiots are just that, trying to shove medicines at me, ignoring everything I am saying to them. If they want to put me in the hospital where I know I will be safe, fed, and comfy, with access to my computer, I will not do it. I might even give up access to the machine, but I won't go comatose here at home, I cannot take care of myself, my bills, or anything. Wait, I cannot go to the hospital, I have cats to tend, bills to pay, and such. *sigh* Oh, the 24 hour bp monitor they installed... failed after about 12 hours. I think trying to pump that high so often, and maybe it sometimes being out of range so having to redo it often, caused the battery to fail, mostly. It was not even showing the time when it failed, just a line of bars and continual weak attempts to pump every five minutes. Oh well, I tried. I AM hard on machines, and nerves. Heh!
Blood pressure was down just a wee bit, a few points top and bottom. I am set for a clinic which works with those with difficult to treat high blood pressure and psychology to see if more trauma work might help. I will look over what psychology has to offer. No groups, usually a bunch of momma's boys or sissy girls who piss themselves at the thought of being in control, and that is the therapist in charge. Not my game. No Freudian therapy either, talking, one way, does nothing. I will need interactive sessions. If they cannot do it, I do not need what else is available. Already tried it. We will see. Might just have to back away, slowly but surely, from "care" once again. These people are nuts, even the regular doctors, deaf too.
Oh well, at least I am getting out a bit. It has been brutal getting up and out. It is a tough time for me. Sometime tomorrow I am hoping to get to the post office and mail my lady friend those items, pictures, birthday card, and check. It will be something to do. One more day out of the house will be tough. And Thursday I am taking my friend to Ogden, so no break there. But it will not be on a schedule... Sometime in the afternoon, so I can sleep a little longer if needed. Same with tomorrow, plus tomorrow will be short and sweet. I might even just walk there.
Cats are mad at popo (me). Two days gone and they are not getting their daily recommended doses of loving. Sassy attacked me tonight, while playing my game, just to let me know she needs some of my time too. Or because she is just a butt. Hard to tell. But I gave her some loving anywhile. Butt. Sam is... just being a woman. A little distant, a little stand-offish, a shoulder turned away, yeah... I know that. Reminds me of when I could not remember to put the lid down for most of my thirty plus lady loves. Oh, more, right after she figures out the mechanical squat failure with a butt induced shower at midnight... Yeah, them were the days. Heh! Oh, by the way, I have learned. I keep in practice too. Though a week or two of quiet was nice back in the day. Just... saying.
Anyway, back to winding down (up) gaming. Good night though. I will pray for you, some of you specifically, as I know your names. Some of you not so much by name, but by being enemy or friend, good or evil in heading, in pain, in joy, in doubt, in hope. You will be in there somewhere. Good night.
Monday, January 10, 2011
Good and bad news.
.
.
I did two things today at the hospital. First I was fitted with a 24 hour blood pressure monitor. Before they fitted me, they checked my blood pressure. That is the bad news. My blood pressure was right at 210/145. This made them nervous enough that they decided to check again. At 216/146 they quit. They considered keeping me, but since there is nothing they can do, short term, to lower it, they let me go. Then I went to ultrasound. They looked at my liver and kidneys. They at least look good. Well, I saw the screen. If they are that blue I am probably in trouble:p
Getting up and going was a bear. I was an hour late but that is as good as I could do. On the way home I picked up the pictures I was supposed to have out the door weeks ago, and a birthday card which will be late. Along with a little money, the pictures, the card, and a hope that she will forgive, I hope my Miss Persnickety will be... satisfied, mollified, or just pleased.
I am bone tired. The road seemed more brutal today than usual. Then again, because they were doing ultrasound, they did not want me to drink carbonated drinks or dairy. I just cannot quite do coffee without a little something something from a cow. Yeah, yeah, sue me. So I was running on empty. It was not as long a day as I had feared though. When I did have to wait, I just found something to read. I seem to do just fine even if there was nothing around to nose into as well.
You know, I am actually in pretty good shape for the shape I am in. And, other than driving sometimes, I am quite satisfied to just be. I enjoy the little bits of time I get to spend with people. And I do enjoy life, mostly. Pretty good for a grumpy old man, down on his luck, with poor health, and a lost mind:) It is all good. And, I know Christ, and through Him the Father. The Spirit is with me as well. Live, die, it is all good. Though to be able to do something good, just once, really good... I would like to live just a little longer and get to some function. Visiting death row inmates is that one good thing I would like to do. To be with the Christ that is in them, and the men who may not know or who may have forgotten.
Anyway, we will see. Later or good night. Another day on the road again tomorrow.
.
I did two things today at the hospital. First I was fitted with a 24 hour blood pressure monitor. Before they fitted me, they checked my blood pressure. That is the bad news. My blood pressure was right at 210/145. This made them nervous enough that they decided to check again. At 216/146 they quit. They considered keeping me, but since there is nothing they can do, short term, to lower it, they let me go. Then I went to ultrasound. They looked at my liver and kidneys. They at least look good. Well, I saw the screen. If they are that blue I am probably in trouble:p
Getting up and going was a bear. I was an hour late but that is as good as I could do. On the way home I picked up the pictures I was supposed to have out the door weeks ago, and a birthday card which will be late. Along with a little money, the pictures, the card, and a hope that she will forgive, I hope my Miss Persnickety will be... satisfied, mollified, or just pleased.
I am bone tired. The road seemed more brutal today than usual. Then again, because they were doing ultrasound, they did not want me to drink carbonated drinks or dairy. I just cannot quite do coffee without a little something something from a cow. Yeah, yeah, sue me. So I was running on empty. It was not as long a day as I had feared though. When I did have to wait, I just found something to read. I seem to do just fine even if there was nothing around to nose into as well.
You know, I am actually in pretty good shape for the shape I am in. And, other than driving sometimes, I am quite satisfied to just be. I enjoy the little bits of time I get to spend with people. And I do enjoy life, mostly. Pretty good for a grumpy old man, down on his luck, with poor health, and a lost mind:) It is all good. And, I know Christ, and through Him the Father. The Spirit is with me as well. Live, die, it is all good. Though to be able to do something good, just once, really good... I would like to live just a little longer and get to some function. Visiting death row inmates is that one good thing I would like to do. To be with the Christ that is in them, and the men who may not know or who may have forgotten.
Anyway, we will see. Later or good night. Another day on the road again tomorrow.
Busy week.
.
.
I have two things today, in SLC, and two tomorrow. So, grooming, driving, and of course the appointments. I have some other appointments coming up but not until next week or even further out. As well, I suggested to my friend that we drive to Ogden Thursday or Friday, he thought Friday would be best. He has wanted to go for a while now. As well, I thought Saturday or Sunday would be a good day for a beef roast. Not sure which day, but one of them will see us feast in a minor way. Meat, potatoes, and gravy. I need to add vegetables, but only for me. He simply does not eat them, mostly.
I have to figure out bills. I know some are overdue. I took care of one of them a few days ago. Most are on automatic pay. But between problems with that staying on and those that are not yet on auto, I... struggle. I usually have the money, usually. It is merely a matter of staying connected enough to know I need to pay. I need to get those last on autopay. Though some are too variable for that, so... we will see.
I did call my mother. She was trying to nap. I honestly think, if she does love me, that she does not actually like me. It is not just a woman thing, though of course there is always that. I sense that, as a person, she simply does not like me. That actually does not hurt, just... is good to know. I might be wrong but I do not think so. I also, finally, took some pictures I promised my lady friend I would take. I have the pictures being developed as well. I will remember to pick them up tomorrow and send them, along with a (late) birthday card. Yeah, I do like her. I just do not agree with most of what she says.
Well, the bed beckons. I have been staying up much later, but today's doings, meager as they were, were enough that I need sleep. Oh, I have been tracking my medicines better, even taking the new one fairly regularly, after I finally picked it up from the post office a few days ago. I do what I can. Good night.
.
I have two things today, in SLC, and two tomorrow. So, grooming, driving, and of course the appointments. I have some other appointments coming up but not until next week or even further out. As well, I suggested to my friend that we drive to Ogden Thursday or Friday, he thought Friday would be best. He has wanted to go for a while now. As well, I thought Saturday or Sunday would be a good day for a beef roast. Not sure which day, but one of them will see us feast in a minor way. Meat, potatoes, and gravy. I need to add vegetables, but only for me. He simply does not eat them, mostly.
I have to figure out bills. I know some are overdue. I took care of one of them a few days ago. Most are on automatic pay. But between problems with that staying on and those that are not yet on auto, I... struggle. I usually have the money, usually. It is merely a matter of staying connected enough to know I need to pay. I need to get those last on autopay. Though some are too variable for that, so... we will see.
I did call my mother. She was trying to nap. I honestly think, if she does love me, that she does not actually like me. It is not just a woman thing, though of course there is always that. I sense that, as a person, she simply does not like me. That actually does not hurt, just... is good to know. I might be wrong but I do not think so. I also, finally, took some pictures I promised my lady friend I would take. I have the pictures being developed as well. I will remember to pick them up tomorrow and send them, along with a (late) birthday card. Yeah, I do like her. I just do not agree with most of what she says.
Well, the bed beckons. I have been staying up much later, but today's doings, meager as they were, were enough that I need sleep. Oh, I have been tracking my medicines better, even taking the new one fairly regularly, after I finally picked it up from the post office a few days ago. I do what I can. Good night.
Friday, January 7, 2011
Yes, a rough week.
.
.
But I have been triangulating back toward the saddle. Putting my foot in and going up as far as I can as long as I can. Piecemeal, slow, and backwards sometimes, I have done what I can as I could. I finally purchased caffeine in an easily dispensing form. Coffee production had come to a halt due to production complications. Still not awake, always behind the 8-ball, but still trying. We will see if I can make today a bit more fruitful.
I am hoping the docs have something because there is little I can do. Pushing is nice, but there has to be some kind of break, some 'new weapon in the war', some change of strategy. While I am doing a thousand percent better here than in Iowa, in that I maintain awareness, so can set goals and keep many more of them, I am still fighting exhaustion beyond what most people can know. Sleep apnea sufferers can fully understand the sense of exhaustion, but I have been tested out of that. Imagine having sleep apnea symptoms for the last two decades, full blown, untreatable, hardcore. There you go. They so want it to be psychological. It gives the doctors an out.
Well, a call today to try and realign something that got missed last Monday. When my other appointment, the main one, was canceled, I lost track of the little one. Ugh... So be it. I will do what I can, at this point, to amend that. Perhaps a bit more cleanup in the house, another shower and then a soak bath? Attention to grooming. I might even get a haircut soon, schedule one. I need to get up again. We will see.
Alright, that is all the news from the war front. Just have to keep trying.
.
But I have been triangulating back toward the saddle. Putting my foot in and going up as far as I can as long as I can. Piecemeal, slow, and backwards sometimes, I have done what I can as I could. I finally purchased caffeine in an easily dispensing form. Coffee production had come to a halt due to production complications. Still not awake, always behind the 8-ball, but still trying. We will see if I can make today a bit more fruitful.
I am hoping the docs have something because there is little I can do. Pushing is nice, but there has to be some kind of break, some 'new weapon in the war', some change of strategy. While I am doing a thousand percent better here than in Iowa, in that I maintain awareness, so can set goals and keep many more of them, I am still fighting exhaustion beyond what most people can know. Sleep apnea sufferers can fully understand the sense of exhaustion, but I have been tested out of that. Imagine having sleep apnea symptoms for the last two decades, full blown, untreatable, hardcore. There you go. They so want it to be psychological. It gives the doctors an out.
Well, a call today to try and realign something that got missed last Monday. When my other appointment, the main one, was canceled, I lost track of the little one. Ugh... So be it. I will do what I can, at this point, to amend that. Perhaps a bit more cleanup in the house, another shower and then a soak bath? Attention to grooming. I might even get a haircut soon, schedule one. I need to get up again. We will see.
Alright, that is all the news from the war front. Just have to keep trying.
Monday, January 3, 2011
Oh yeah? Yeah!
.
.
Really really.
New page, next day, time rolls on, and perhaps more with me than not. I woke later than I had hoped, but within the timeframe needed, to get me to SLC in time for the first of several events there. As I am sitting there, just... sitting there but not going back to sleep, the phone makes a funny sound meaning someone is calling because that sure as hell is not a ring. One of my appointments for the day has been canceled. The other one is non-vital, a thing that can be done on any day, so I will reschedule it. I would rather not travel today if I do not have to. I am still in recovery mode. I will call them within the hour.
Not wishing to waste a lot of spent focus, I decide a shower and gum mushing episode would be providential, or something. The biggest word I could probably put together at the time I set forth on those operations, however, was probably more in the range of 'Good! It r good to wet!'. And, it was indeed good, might even have been providential. I might know what that word even means in... a while.
Still, even if I still partied like the party did not stop until yesterday, as if I was drinking like I was at age 30 or so, and is partying would earn me favor, fortune, and love, and feel like I just woke up from it, I think I know what the problem is and will be fixing it. Oh yes, I will be buying soda as soon as I can get out. Maybe today. If the snow has not hardened to rock, I will try to use the blower on it. If it has, I have new temporary concrete.
I dreamed an odd dream last night. A girl, young and foolish, decided to seduce her brother for fun, fashion, and as a lark. Of course, as many larks want, this one went wrong. She lost control and her brother could not be controlled. He would take her when he could, she could say nothing, she had opened the door. Now, her mother did not know who or what, but knew her daughter and was sure of one thing. She asked, as mothers do, ever so slight of questions. The door to the answers was slammed so tightly shut, no information was yielded no matter how passive or direct and powerful the questioning went... of course. So, she took the daughter on a trip into town. They went to a store where, she asked her daughter to look at a set of rings, promisary rings. When the daughter asked what these rings required as a promise, the mother took the daughter to a section of 'greeting cards', allowing her to pick them up and read them. Actually, not allowing but encouraging the reading.
The daughter picked up a card, and it read something along the lines of; 'Thank you for having decided to offer me life instead of the other choice you had, I am and will always be grateful for your choice and sacrifice...' and so on. Of course the daughter had thought of this potential. Of course it all was considered. But until that moment, it had no real context. The dream sort of ended there, or that is all I remember. That and a bit of horror on the part of the girl. Strange that I would have such a dream. Even given Jungian theory, if I have that right.
Oh, something else that has been on my mind... well, two things. First, the notion that one man, who spends his time lifting his mind, using it for all manner of learning and practice, might be considered great. And yet, not. Not only will he fall short, he may and probably will fall shorter than the man who simply lives. As great as our capacity for good is our capacity for evil. Even taking good and evil and simplifying it to wrong and right should suffice in this notion. The more man thinks, the more incorrect he becomes. Philosophical, logical, and linguistic function lead only to greater folly, for any man.
While I appreciate the art of these things, I would not wish to go that rout. I am, for the most part and given a choice (and when functioning) a man of function. Does it work? Can you repeat it? Is it worth spending the money to make it work and repeat? Deciphering the wisdom of ancient men and their works, while laudable in an academic (non-collegiate, non-university, academics that is), it is merely a toy for the wealthy who have the time and resources to devote to (quite often) nonsense. Aristotle? Tolstoy? Even my favored Americans (if at least one may have not preferred to have been called American) Twain and Poe? Fools, the lot. Follow, believe, understand, it is folly. Rich men, or men of leisure, with followers and someone who just happened to maintain what they wrote to some degree of accuracy or not. Men are fools.
Why, even Einstein and Freud have their devoted idiots in spite of being quite wrong. Freud has been debunked fully and clearly and yet the cult of psychology has no means of ferreting out the incorrect. They merely build a side study department for those who will not comply, a side study which is just as likely to be department chair or head up the whole of the pseudo science lead. Both provided theory which is taught to people who merely learn well, but who cannot see well enough to know what they are taught is incorrect or how, unless that too is taught, and that teaching itself is probably erroneous.
So, pick your heroes. Base it on whatever you wish. We all need heroes. But think about it. Is another mortal fool man going to be your hero? I went through that, tossing all save one. I look up and down at no man who abides my attentions. I will grant this one is a better fighter, that one can maintain a farm or ranch better than others, this one seems to touch on wisdom by choice, vocation, or avocation in excess of the others. But none are to be trusted or given undue grants of my sovereignty. I give nothing, save to one.
Just... clearing some baffles. Mr. Coffin, you may assume scheduled heading and speed at your leisure. Aye, aye, captain.
.
Really really.
New page, next day, time rolls on, and perhaps more with me than not. I woke later than I had hoped, but within the timeframe needed, to get me to SLC in time for the first of several events there. As I am sitting there, just... sitting there but not going back to sleep, the phone makes a funny sound meaning someone is calling because that sure as hell is not a ring. One of my appointments for the day has been canceled. The other one is non-vital, a thing that can be done on any day, so I will reschedule it. I would rather not travel today if I do not have to. I am still in recovery mode. I will call them within the hour.
Not wishing to waste a lot of spent focus, I decide a shower and gum mushing episode would be providential, or something. The biggest word I could probably put together at the time I set forth on those operations, however, was probably more in the range of 'Good! It r good to wet!'. And, it was indeed good, might even have been providential. I might know what that word even means in... a while.
Still, even if I still partied like the party did not stop until yesterday, as if I was drinking like I was at age 30 or so, and is partying would earn me favor, fortune, and love, and feel like I just woke up from it, I think I know what the problem is and will be fixing it. Oh yes, I will be buying soda as soon as I can get out. Maybe today. If the snow has not hardened to rock, I will try to use the blower on it. If it has, I have new temporary concrete.
I dreamed an odd dream last night. A girl, young and foolish, decided to seduce her brother for fun, fashion, and as a lark. Of course, as many larks want, this one went wrong. She lost control and her brother could not be controlled. He would take her when he could, she could say nothing, she had opened the door. Now, her mother did not know who or what, but knew her daughter and was sure of one thing. She asked, as mothers do, ever so slight of questions. The door to the answers was slammed so tightly shut, no information was yielded no matter how passive or direct and powerful the questioning went... of course. So, she took the daughter on a trip into town. They went to a store where, she asked her daughter to look at a set of rings, promisary rings. When the daughter asked what these rings required as a promise, the mother took the daughter to a section of 'greeting cards', allowing her to pick them up and read them. Actually, not allowing but encouraging the reading.
The daughter picked up a card, and it read something along the lines of; 'Thank you for having decided to offer me life instead of the other choice you had, I am and will always be grateful for your choice and sacrifice...' and so on. Of course the daughter had thought of this potential. Of course it all was considered. But until that moment, it had no real context. The dream sort of ended there, or that is all I remember. That and a bit of horror on the part of the girl. Strange that I would have such a dream. Even given Jungian theory, if I have that right.
Oh, something else that has been on my mind... well, two things. First, the notion that one man, who spends his time lifting his mind, using it for all manner of learning and practice, might be considered great. And yet, not. Not only will he fall short, he may and probably will fall shorter than the man who simply lives. As great as our capacity for good is our capacity for evil. Even taking good and evil and simplifying it to wrong and right should suffice in this notion. The more man thinks, the more incorrect he becomes. Philosophical, logical, and linguistic function lead only to greater folly, for any man.
While I appreciate the art of these things, I would not wish to go that rout. I am, for the most part and given a choice (and when functioning) a man of function. Does it work? Can you repeat it? Is it worth spending the money to make it work and repeat? Deciphering the wisdom of ancient men and their works, while laudable in an academic (non-collegiate, non-university, academics that is), it is merely a toy for the wealthy who have the time and resources to devote to (quite often) nonsense. Aristotle? Tolstoy? Even my favored Americans (if at least one may have not preferred to have been called American) Twain and Poe? Fools, the lot. Follow, believe, understand, it is folly. Rich men, or men of leisure, with followers and someone who just happened to maintain what they wrote to some degree of accuracy or not. Men are fools.
Why, even Einstein and Freud have their devoted idiots in spite of being quite wrong. Freud has been debunked fully and clearly and yet the cult of psychology has no means of ferreting out the incorrect. They merely build a side study department for those who will not comply, a side study which is just as likely to be department chair or head up the whole of the pseudo science lead. Both provided theory which is taught to people who merely learn well, but who cannot see well enough to know what they are taught is incorrect or how, unless that too is taught, and that teaching itself is probably erroneous.
So, pick your heroes. Base it on whatever you wish. We all need heroes. But think about it. Is another mortal fool man going to be your hero? I went through that, tossing all save one. I look up and down at no man who abides my attentions. I will grant this one is a better fighter, that one can maintain a farm or ranch better than others, this one seems to touch on wisdom by choice, vocation, or avocation in excess of the others. But none are to be trusted or given undue grants of my sovereignty. I give nothing, save to one.
Just... clearing some baffles. Mr. Coffin, you may assume scheduled heading and speed at your leisure. Aye, aye, captain.
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Some things come to mind...
.
.
On days like this. I was actually starting to pick up and do well. Days were my domain, exercising was beginning, cooking was beginning, the kitchen and house were beginning to be maintained, and at worst I had an occasional hiccup. The last few days prove effort has nothing to do with it. Sleep and wake cycles have been completely tossed in the air. I have been completely unable to control when I go to bed or wake up, snapping awake at random times, unable to fall back to sleep, and my efforts have been true, solid, and pathetically ineffective. All I get for my efforts is deeper exhaustion and this wonderful mini-migraine that might be about to mature. Ah, well, what else was happening? I cannot say I am bored. Much like being at sea in a heavy storm, it has moments which are at least... breathtaking.
Still, there are things I would like to get to doing. It is much more difficult when the battering from the loss of control leaves me unable to focus, makes work many times more difficult than it should be, and complicates the simple idea of maintaining the focus to pick up my butt from here and put it over there. I have to take something for this headache today. I have been ignoring them, for the most part. They started, perhaps, a week ago. They have been intensifying. Though not quite nauseating, they are brutal.
The good news? Besides Jesus Christ? (just covering the bases) That would be that even if life is a little confusing, memory is good, clarity of notions is good, etc. I may lose focus, but I remember losing focus. And, yes, memory is that important and more. It does not matter what else you do if you remember nothing. You cannot set goals, you cannot push, you cannot change directions.
Some Tylenol down the gullet, a cup of coffee being introduced, and I will see about today. The only thing I changed was my consumption of (Splenda based) diet Coke. I do consume coffee, perhaps not as much. But then I thought coffee had more caffeine? I may, simply, have to go back, then ease away from the junk. Perhaps that is all there is to it?
Anyway, I might be all junked up, but I still think about you all. Your little mouse lives, walk through the stars, or whatever you want to term your life here is of interest to me. Must be cool, if sometimes sad, to be God. If he knows the bad in all of us, he also knows the good. The stuff no one else knows. I think if there was too little of that, if not by flood, He would again destroy man. He really would. So, be good for goodness sake? Yep. :) Later.
.
On days like this. I was actually starting to pick up and do well. Days were my domain, exercising was beginning, cooking was beginning, the kitchen and house were beginning to be maintained, and at worst I had an occasional hiccup. The last few days prove effort has nothing to do with it. Sleep and wake cycles have been completely tossed in the air. I have been completely unable to control when I go to bed or wake up, snapping awake at random times, unable to fall back to sleep, and my efforts have been true, solid, and pathetically ineffective. All I get for my efforts is deeper exhaustion and this wonderful mini-migraine that might be about to mature. Ah, well, what else was happening? I cannot say I am bored. Much like being at sea in a heavy storm, it has moments which are at least... breathtaking.
Still, there are things I would like to get to doing. It is much more difficult when the battering from the loss of control leaves me unable to focus, makes work many times more difficult than it should be, and complicates the simple idea of maintaining the focus to pick up my butt from here and put it over there. I have to take something for this headache today. I have been ignoring them, for the most part. They started, perhaps, a week ago. They have been intensifying. Though not quite nauseating, they are brutal.
The good news? Besides Jesus Christ? (just covering the bases) That would be that even if life is a little confusing, memory is good, clarity of notions is good, etc. I may lose focus, but I remember losing focus. And, yes, memory is that important and more. It does not matter what else you do if you remember nothing. You cannot set goals, you cannot push, you cannot change directions.
Some Tylenol down the gullet, a cup of coffee being introduced, and I will see about today. The only thing I changed was my consumption of (Splenda based) diet Coke. I do consume coffee, perhaps not as much. But then I thought coffee had more caffeine? I may, simply, have to go back, then ease away from the junk. Perhaps that is all there is to it?
Anyway, I might be all junked up, but I still think about you all. Your little mouse lives, walk through the stars, or whatever you want to term your life here is of interest to me. Must be cool, if sometimes sad, to be God. If he knows the bad in all of us, he also knows the good. The stuff no one else knows. I think if there was too little of that, if not by flood, He would again destroy man. He really would. So, be good for goodness sake? Yep. :) Later.
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