.
.
I got everything on my list completed yesterday, save for extra cleaning here at home. Having clean guns to shoot is like going to bed on clean sheets. I only shot the Henry and the .45. Those will get a cleaning again relatively quickly. As things are warming, I do not want an excuse to not get out. I still have limits on how much I can functionally get done, but that too is expanding slowly. I also sent that package to my lady friend and transferred funds so that I may further take care of a couple of bills. Right now my finances are a bit crippled as I no longer have a debit card to a third of my income, which is directly deposited to a bank in another state. Oh, I have tried three or four times to get that changed. I have no idea why both writing and vocal communications do not seem to get it done for the Social Security office. I will simply have to find a local office, go there in person, and see someone, and make absolutely sure they can 'hear me now'. Ugh but it is harsh when it is tough to do the little you do and that is simply ignored.
I was planning to have my friend here today, for woodworking and a meal. I need to clean more and am not quite ready for a visit. So, I will delay that until tomorrow. Roast beef with mashed potatoes and gravy, I believe, will be the verdict. The Lord knows, such meals are a pleasure. And more so when shared. If I have the house really cleaned at that time, I will ask my friend to help with the dishes. Such is the way of it. It is not that bad, but when I go all fancy, such as using a meat platter, gravy boat, along with the cooking gear, it piles up and I am quickly overwhelmed.
My lady friend got her package today. And, almost as quickly after, I received a phone call. Kitty was happy. Hey, bribery works. A chuckle or two even makes it better. She wanted to know if the checks were valid. Way too funny, though I like that sentiment. For a microsecond I truly considered saying "No". I love to hear a woman whine. Still, it was not in keeping with my plan so I let the opportunity slide. I will get plenty of other chances. Conan might have had some parts right when discussing success and "lamentation of da women.", though lamentation is not always a bedtime story. Just... my perspective. hehehe I like womenz.
The heart murmurs, or skipping, are not as severe today for the first time in two weeks. It was getting progressively worse, so I really am not sure. It is still there, just milder today for whatever reason. My breathing has eased a bit too, but is still a bit tight. This time or next, it... I am dying. I am still glad I gave the warning. I had been set to call my mother and others and begin looking for someone I could trust to check on me every few days. I like this home and do not wish to ruin it with the stench of my dead corpse over some extended period of time. And more, I do not want my cats to have to eat from me to survive. I do not care about the care of my corpse, or that animals might eat from it, but I worry what that might do to their minds. As well, and something I am going to start to do, is look for a place which will take my cats and ensure that they are placed in a home (hopefully as a pair). If I have to put some money in on that, I guess I will have to do so. I feel obligated to them. And, I love them.
Well, on to my day. No one knows, save the breathless, what a fresh easy clean breath is worth. It is golden, by the way. Later.
Saturday, March 12, 2011
Friday, March 11, 2011
Death watch.
.
.
My heart is having problems. Like an engine with a bent rod, it thumps, from time to time. It is laboring. My breathing is not as automatic as it should be. It too is difficult at times. I still seem able to be physical, that does not seem to help or hurt it. The thump is enough to wake me at night, the worry about breath enough to make sleep difficult. I do not know if my chest hurts. I do not feel pain, always, like I should. I think my time here is either ending or at a serious crossroads.
If I do not write for a day or two. No worries. A week can pass. But if a month goes by and I have not written, at least at this point, understand that I will probably not write again. I had hoped the water pills might fix enough of the problem, but I do not think water build up was the issue. Untreated high blood pressure has probably put a plug in the thing. I just, after a few weeks of considering, decided it was time to let it be known.
.
My heart is having problems. Like an engine with a bent rod, it thumps, from time to time. It is laboring. My breathing is not as automatic as it should be. It too is difficult at times. I still seem able to be physical, that does not seem to help or hurt it. The thump is enough to wake me at night, the worry about breath enough to make sleep difficult. I do not know if my chest hurts. I do not feel pain, always, like I should. I think my time here is either ending or at a serious crossroads.
If I do not write for a day or two. No worries. A week can pass. But if a month goes by and I have not written, at least at this point, understand that I will probably not write again. I had hoped the water pills might fix enough of the problem, but I do not think water build up was the issue. Untreated high blood pressure has probably put a plug in the thing. I just, after a few weeks of considering, decided it was time to let it be known.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Okies, the good and the bad.
.
.
I had a few things in my game I wished to complete. As can be the case, the job might take a bit longer and be a bit more arduous, tedious, than first suspected. So, I pushed. For the last two days I was up until 6:00 to 7:00 getting the dratted tasks done. And, I still did not get one of them done if I did do all that was possible. Some things, I have come to understand, simply are not possible. It has nothing to do with skill or time or work. It is akin to trying to climb a rope, starting at the bottom, when it is twenty feet too short. Sometimes you cannot know until you have done all the work to get to the point of understanding. And, so it went. Fine, I did those tasks and am back on track for simple gaming.
However, I missed a fine day for shooting. My friend called at around noon, according to my phone. I think I even heard it! Doing anything about it is another matter. Those silly cats of mine even worked to try and wake me up. Sassy finds noisy things to knock over. Nothing glass, yet, thankfully. She had food, milk, and water, so I think she just wanted attention. If she did it during waking hours, I would think something caught her fancy. She does not. When I let Sam out to play I noticed how fantastic the weather was. So I decided to do something about it, if today was pretty much shot.
I got on the horn with my friend. Shooting is planned for tomorrow. Then, Saturday, I will bring him to my house where we will work on my shooting bench, and maybe see if we can get my reloader set up. The bench, first, of course. But that should go together fairly quickly. I may pick up safety glasses and hearing protection while in town. I suppose I could just use my shooting muffs. I will price it and see. I will also, finally, get that package off to my lady friend.
This also means I need to clean my shooting irons tonight. The .45 is fine, but the .22s all need a good cleaning still. I also need to get the package set up for my lady friend so that I can pretty much just grab a carry all to send it in at the post office and then seal, pay, and send. I also need to do some cleaning in order to have my friend here. I am still way ahead in that department from a week ago, but that is not all that good.
I needed incentive to get to things, I guess I have created it. After a couple of days of working hard on things, I got lost again. But I did not get so far lost that I simply melted. Oh, I am hoping the weather is still good tomorrow. If not, we may just do the wood work tomorrow and hope Saturday is good for shooting. We will get to it, darn it. I miss plinking, having man company, and just getting out. While the game is fine, and it does let me out to a degree, it is nowhere near as fun as the real deal.
Hey, get off it and get to it. Set yourself up through obligations and do not look back. You know you want to see friends, do things, and go places. So just do it. I am off to make some supper and then get to those guns, a few dishes washed, and some laundry going again. Hmm, hoping I can get to sleep a lot earlier tonight too. Later.
.
I had a few things in my game I wished to complete. As can be the case, the job might take a bit longer and be a bit more arduous, tedious, than first suspected. So, I pushed. For the last two days I was up until 6:00 to 7:00 getting the dratted tasks done. And, I still did not get one of them done if I did do all that was possible. Some things, I have come to understand, simply are not possible. It has nothing to do with skill or time or work. It is akin to trying to climb a rope, starting at the bottom, when it is twenty feet too short. Sometimes you cannot know until you have done all the work to get to the point of understanding. And, so it went. Fine, I did those tasks and am back on track for simple gaming.
However, I missed a fine day for shooting. My friend called at around noon, according to my phone. I think I even heard it! Doing anything about it is another matter. Those silly cats of mine even worked to try and wake me up. Sassy finds noisy things to knock over. Nothing glass, yet, thankfully. She had food, milk, and water, so I think she just wanted attention. If she did it during waking hours, I would think something caught her fancy. She does not. When I let Sam out to play I noticed how fantastic the weather was. So I decided to do something about it, if today was pretty much shot.
I got on the horn with my friend. Shooting is planned for tomorrow. Then, Saturday, I will bring him to my house where we will work on my shooting bench, and maybe see if we can get my reloader set up. The bench, first, of course. But that should go together fairly quickly. I may pick up safety glasses and hearing protection while in town. I suppose I could just use my shooting muffs. I will price it and see. I will also, finally, get that package off to my lady friend.
This also means I need to clean my shooting irons tonight. The .45 is fine, but the .22s all need a good cleaning still. I also need to get the package set up for my lady friend so that I can pretty much just grab a carry all to send it in at the post office and then seal, pay, and send. I also need to do some cleaning in order to have my friend here. I am still way ahead in that department from a week ago, but that is not all that good.
I needed incentive to get to things, I guess I have created it. After a couple of days of working hard on things, I got lost again. But I did not get so far lost that I simply melted. Oh, I am hoping the weather is still good tomorrow. If not, we may just do the wood work tomorrow and hope Saturday is good for shooting. We will get to it, darn it. I miss plinking, having man company, and just getting out. While the game is fine, and it does let me out to a degree, it is nowhere near as fun as the real deal.
Hey, get off it and get to it. Set yourself up through obligations and do not look back. You know you want to see friends, do things, and go places. So just do it. I am off to make some supper and then get to those guns, a few dishes washed, and some laundry going again. Hmm, hoping I can get to sleep a lot earlier tonight too. Later.
Why no steel masts?
.
.
I keep thinking about masts, on sailing ships. Wooden, for the most part. I suppose modern ships might use composites, perhaps even metals. Then I realized they had no steel in the days of the great sailing ships which come to mind. And, even if they had, it would probably would have been iron that was available in any quantity. The sea would have eaten that, and quickly. An odd thing to think about, it happens.
What else in this world is missing. Things we have that actually could be used but are not being implemented. Often these oversights are due to industrial paradigms. "We use this because we have always used this and we always will use this, material, product, style". And, to some extent, if it is not broken, do not fix it. There is some wisdom in that. As we know, however, wisdom must be tempered as all things must. A greater need here, meaning a lack of material there, and... something else must be used.
As an engineering type, if more in ideas at this point than in real world applications, I try to look at my world and design or redesign around needs, wants, and the practicalities of costs and availability. In my personal world, I do fairly well. It would be considered subpar for many, but given my circumstances, that I am not dead, in jail, a hopeless alcoholic, or worse if that is possible (it is) and that I am sort of managing to own a home... I really have to say I do okay. Automatization, my friends. The few meager technologies I can muster I use to crucial effect. The trouble comes from those pesky tasks that cannot be automated.
Anyway, it would be interesting to see a ship of the old sailing style, but made of steels that can withstand the sea, sailing the big blues of the world. Even one would... satisfy my curiosity. I may have to do research and see if someone else was both curious and industrious enough to make such a project real. I had a friend who fantasized about native Americans with compound bows. Me, not so much. I think it would only have stretched out the inevitable and probably made it much worse for all involved. But a steel boat? Yeah, I could do that.
Good night.
.
I keep thinking about masts, on sailing ships. Wooden, for the most part. I suppose modern ships might use composites, perhaps even metals. Then I realized they had no steel in the days of the great sailing ships which come to mind. And, even if they had, it would probably would have been iron that was available in any quantity. The sea would have eaten that, and quickly. An odd thing to think about, it happens.
What else in this world is missing. Things we have that actually could be used but are not being implemented. Often these oversights are due to industrial paradigms. "We use this because we have always used this and we always will use this, material, product, style". And, to some extent, if it is not broken, do not fix it. There is some wisdom in that. As we know, however, wisdom must be tempered as all things must. A greater need here, meaning a lack of material there, and... something else must be used.
As an engineering type, if more in ideas at this point than in real world applications, I try to look at my world and design or redesign around needs, wants, and the practicalities of costs and availability. In my personal world, I do fairly well. It would be considered subpar for many, but given my circumstances, that I am not dead, in jail, a hopeless alcoholic, or worse if that is possible (it is) and that I am sort of managing to own a home... I really have to say I do okay. Automatization, my friends. The few meager technologies I can muster I use to crucial effect. The trouble comes from those pesky tasks that cannot be automated.
Anyway, it would be interesting to see a ship of the old sailing style, but made of steels that can withstand the sea, sailing the big blues of the world. Even one would... satisfy my curiosity. I may have to do research and see if someone else was both curious and industrious enough to make such a project real. I had a friend who fantasized about native Americans with compound bows. Me, not so much. I think it would only have stretched out the inevitable and probably made it much worse for all involved. But a steel boat? Yeah, I could do that.
Good night.
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
It seems so thin.
.
.
Success that is. Oh, I know, just getting up, dressed, checking my finances, doing some shopping, going for a meal with my friend, picking up a card, and checking the mail IS thin, by any real metric. Still, even in engineering school or in the Navy, great successes still seemed thin. And, in truth, they are. If for no other reason than that they are fleeting. What you did today, over the last week, or for a whole lifetime, save for there being a God and grace, will come to naught. That is the long of it. The short of it is, as soon as you succeed, you have locked yourself into sure failure. You will, if nothing else, be competing with yourself. That is the middle run. The short run is the question all will ask. "Nice work, what have you done for me lately?".
Still, I take what I get and move on. No time can be given to the idleness of life. Do, do, do! When you can, how you can.
How do you measure success? Is it the accumulation of wealth or merely survival. Everywhere in there, some call it good enough. I suppose my real measure of success comes by way of how many people have concern, fondness, perhaps even real love for me. Those things, by the way, should they be real, are mutual. Oh, sure, I can say I love all, and mean it. But that is not the same thing. No, this is personal. So, how successful am I? I can only say for my part. And that is private. I will say that when I love it is real. It is not based on what others do for me, who they are, what they wear, what they drive, or such. And yet, it has stiff limits. I know that God says to love our enemies, but I also do not believe He calls us to allow them to slay us. This, I think, is another kind of love. Much like loving and forgiving those who sin against us (providing they repent). Such love and forgiveness does not negate proper punishment or repayment of damages. It is a messy topic.
Anyway, in a secular manner, I was successful today. I did what I wanted to do, for the most part. I planned to do too much, again, of course. But I did get a majority of it done, and more than I practically thought I would. Further, I plan to push and finish the last bits tomorrow. Yes, I do. And I think I will. Time will tell. Still, even should I complete these tasks and more... It seems so very thin.
Ah well. Good night.
.
Success that is. Oh, I know, just getting up, dressed, checking my finances, doing some shopping, going for a meal with my friend, picking up a card, and checking the mail IS thin, by any real metric. Still, even in engineering school or in the Navy, great successes still seemed thin. And, in truth, they are. If for no other reason than that they are fleeting. What you did today, over the last week, or for a whole lifetime, save for there being a God and grace, will come to naught. That is the long of it. The short of it is, as soon as you succeed, you have locked yourself into sure failure. You will, if nothing else, be competing with yourself. That is the middle run. The short run is the question all will ask. "Nice work, what have you done for me lately?".
Still, I take what I get and move on. No time can be given to the idleness of life. Do, do, do! When you can, how you can.
How do you measure success? Is it the accumulation of wealth or merely survival. Everywhere in there, some call it good enough. I suppose my real measure of success comes by way of how many people have concern, fondness, perhaps even real love for me. Those things, by the way, should they be real, are mutual. Oh, sure, I can say I love all, and mean it. But that is not the same thing. No, this is personal. So, how successful am I? I can only say for my part. And that is private. I will say that when I love it is real. It is not based on what others do for me, who they are, what they wear, what they drive, or such. And yet, it has stiff limits. I know that God says to love our enemies, but I also do not believe He calls us to allow them to slay us. This, I think, is another kind of love. Much like loving and forgiving those who sin against us (providing they repent). Such love and forgiveness does not negate proper punishment or repayment of damages. It is a messy topic.
Anyway, in a secular manner, I was successful today. I did what I wanted to do, for the most part. I planned to do too much, again, of course. But I did get a majority of it done, and more than I practically thought I would. Further, I plan to push and finish the last bits tomorrow. Yes, I do. And I think I will. Time will tell. Still, even should I complete these tasks and more... It seems so very thin.
Ah well. Good night.
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Getting to it.
.
.
After a rough waking and rougher time getting my mind wrapped around consciousness, I think I am ready. Dry from my shower, half dressed already, and about ready to check my lists, look over my finances, figure out what to do, then make a game plan to get it done. Some beans, rice, and ham first though, I think. Not too much food though, just a nip of soup. I would like to get some of my stuff done then grab my friend to go for a bite to eat. Hmm, McDonalds if this is a short month for him, or the Mexican restaurant if he is feeling more flush.
Not a cold day, but certainly not a warm one either. With rain seemingly possible, the chill cold wet hangs in the air, drips down the back. If I do less in this weather, I do prefer it comfort-wise. I guess, as with food, water to a degree, sleep, and other things... the more uncomfortable I am, the better I perform. Oh well. I just cannot be a sadist. Then again, and too, I know those things only boost performance in the short run. After which I simply become miserable.
The sun is smiling, just started. I guess that is a sign. Have a great day. I hope you get a couple of your tasks done.
.
After a rough waking and rougher time getting my mind wrapped around consciousness, I think I am ready. Dry from my shower, half dressed already, and about ready to check my lists, look over my finances, figure out what to do, then make a game plan to get it done. Some beans, rice, and ham first though, I think. Not too much food though, just a nip of soup. I would like to get some of my stuff done then grab my friend to go for a bite to eat. Hmm, McDonalds if this is a short month for him, or the Mexican restaurant if he is feeling more flush.
Not a cold day, but certainly not a warm one either. With rain seemingly possible, the chill cold wet hangs in the air, drips down the back. If I do less in this weather, I do prefer it comfort-wise. I guess, as with food, water to a degree, sleep, and other things... the more uncomfortable I am, the better I perform. Oh well. I just cannot be a sadist. Then again, and too, I know those things only boost performance in the short run. After which I simply become miserable.
The sun is smiling, just started. I guess that is a sign. Have a great day. I hope you get a couple of your tasks done.
How odd.
.
.
I must admit, I have been neither flossing nor brushing through this extended down time. As things get better, I begin my pseudo routine again. To my surprise, flossing was not an issue at all. My gums are not bleeding, though I seem to have one sore spot, but I think that is due to something specific not really related to brushing or flossing. I told the dentist, last time, that my checkup was so good because I use those plastic flat angled toothpicks. She laughed at the notion, probably all the way to the bank for those who believe her. Now, I brush once in a while when I am going out. I would like to do it several times each day (when I am going out), but unless things change I have little chance of that. I floss once in a while, mostly to check. I am still amazed at my teeth. Oh, and the other thing I do, I drink two gallons of whole milk a week. I do not completely buy that you are what you eat. Not in all cases. But in this case, probably. My bones are still... stronger than they have any real right to be and there is the teeth thing.
I just got up. Moving slow. I am still sore in the mornings and I have no idea why. The soreness, as a general rule, begins to clear in a few hours. Perhaps as I become more active this will solve itself. Already took my shower, and flossed and brushed. Getting out is looking more sure. I did put the beans and ham away yesterday, and the pot is soaking. A little of that to see me off, but just a bit, and I should be fine. Shopping, checking on and paying a few bills, sending a package which is way overdue, and then some more stuff here at home when I return. I might really get it done.
Good day.
.
I must admit, I have been neither flossing nor brushing through this extended down time. As things get better, I begin my pseudo routine again. To my surprise, flossing was not an issue at all. My gums are not bleeding, though I seem to have one sore spot, but I think that is due to something specific not really related to brushing or flossing. I told the dentist, last time, that my checkup was so good because I use those plastic flat angled toothpicks. She laughed at the notion, probably all the way to the bank for those who believe her. Now, I brush once in a while when I am going out. I would like to do it several times each day (when I am going out), but unless things change I have little chance of that. I floss once in a while, mostly to check. I am still amazed at my teeth. Oh, and the other thing I do, I drink two gallons of whole milk a week. I do not completely buy that you are what you eat. Not in all cases. But in this case, probably. My bones are still... stronger than they have any real right to be and there is the teeth thing.
I just got up. Moving slow. I am still sore in the mornings and I have no idea why. The soreness, as a general rule, begins to clear in a few hours. Perhaps as I become more active this will solve itself. Already took my shower, and flossed and brushed. Getting out is looking more sure. I did put the beans and ham away yesterday, and the pot is soaking. A little of that to see me off, but just a bit, and I should be fine. Shopping, checking on and paying a few bills, sending a package which is way overdue, and then some more stuff here at home when I return. I might really get it done.
Good day.
A grinding halt.
.
.
Nothing was done today after an initial flurry. Tomorrow will be a bit different. I need to check the mail and get started on the water pill, get to the grocery store, finish a couple of loads of laundry, and do a bit more in the kitchen and house. I will get some or most of that done, I think... I have been wrong before, both in how much I get done or how little is accomplished. A box of chocolates indeed.
I did phone my mother. She sounded chipper. In spite of getting a spat of snow, and expecting more, I think she can see spring from her front porch. I have a similar sense. It is nice to talk when everyone is on board the happy train, though perhaps it is more important when we are not. When we are down is when we need it the most and want it and seek it the least. What fools, and yet, it does make sense. Who wishes to share misery? Well, okay, other than them. No one likes them anyway.
It is a bit chill here, still. And I suspect after chill, comes rain with chill. Actually, it has been raining. Spring chill is often worse than winter chill, though it is a hint that warmth is coming. I am looking forward to the summer. In my own home, near some places, knowing the area better, I really hope to get out a bit more. Even if I merely walk to the dam, do some shooting, swimming, or fishing, and then walk back, I will be somewhat pleased. If I can do that often enough to where I think a mountain hike would be in order and then follow through occasionally, I would be downright ecstatic. If I can get to hiking in the mountains several times a week, I will be downright impressed. That last is what I am looking for in order to prep up to longer hikes, overnight stays, and eventual winter camping. I dreamed of the cold winter wind in my face in the mountains in the winter, and I mean to see that happen. We are, indeed, strange creatures. Stirred to action, and epic action for me considering everything, by the stirrings of our sleeping imagination.
Well, I best get to bed. I have things to do tomorrow. Good night, Jane... Mom number 3.
.
Nothing was done today after an initial flurry. Tomorrow will be a bit different. I need to check the mail and get started on the water pill, get to the grocery store, finish a couple of loads of laundry, and do a bit more in the kitchen and house. I will get some or most of that done, I think... I have been wrong before, both in how much I get done or how little is accomplished. A box of chocolates indeed.
I did phone my mother. She sounded chipper. In spite of getting a spat of snow, and expecting more, I think she can see spring from her front porch. I have a similar sense. It is nice to talk when everyone is on board the happy train, though perhaps it is more important when we are not. When we are down is when we need it the most and want it and seek it the least. What fools, and yet, it does make sense. Who wishes to share misery? Well, okay, other than them. No one likes them anyway.
It is a bit chill here, still. And I suspect after chill, comes rain with chill. Actually, it has been raining. Spring chill is often worse than winter chill, though it is a hint that warmth is coming. I am looking forward to the summer. In my own home, near some places, knowing the area better, I really hope to get out a bit more. Even if I merely walk to the dam, do some shooting, swimming, or fishing, and then walk back, I will be somewhat pleased. If I can do that often enough to where I think a mountain hike would be in order and then follow through occasionally, I would be downright ecstatic. If I can get to hiking in the mountains several times a week, I will be downright impressed. That last is what I am looking for in order to prep up to longer hikes, overnight stays, and eventual winter camping. I dreamed of the cold winter wind in my face in the mountains in the winter, and I mean to see that happen. We are, indeed, strange creatures. Stirred to action, and epic action for me considering everything, by the stirrings of our sleeping imagination.
Well, I best get to bed. I have things to do tomorrow. Good night, Jane... Mom number 3.
Sunday, March 6, 2011
How it works.
.
.
I neither know nor sometimes think it is any of my business. When it comes to my life, a little information would be nice though. The kitchen is starting to take shape, most of the dishes are cleaned and put up, including the pots and pans. Food has been cooked, the pot for the rice cleaned right away, laundry is being done, and beans are on soak for cooking tomorrow. This is how I like to live. It does not take that much time or effort, and yet that little time and effort is not available to me usually. I can even do this and still game.
Why it works today and not yesterday anyone may guess at. I at first thought it was eating, and rice, again. But, no. I did not get to cooking until I had dug through the kitchen AND felt secure that I would continue to do so. More mess to the pile for a temporary food is more frustrating than not. I still need to get the trash out tonight, and will do the weekly complete scrub of the kitty litter boxes. The rest of the house is getting 'lick and spit' on my way through, though it will need a good deal more. I am hoping to get my house up to Mom specs, within my abilities mind you, and then keep it that way at least until I visit her, if I am able to do that.
I have no clue why the carburetor works today, but not tomorrow. Or is it the accelerator that sticks or the fuel line that fouls. There are too many symptoms, if it all comes down to pure unadulterated exhaustion. The root cause, something I cannot treat. Three months of heavy exercise did not cure it either. Every single day I worked out I had to push with all I had to get out the door or to get started, and that was with a stimulant. The only thing that showed me was that when I have the way, my will is indeed good. Anti-depressants, when stopped, led to no worse a life but ended suicidal thinking. That is not the answer. Mood stabilizers were only partially useful to counteract the anti-depressants. Talk about creating one's own problems to solve, I think psychiatrists have that in the bag, though only after learning from doctors. Go figure why I have no trust.
Grumble, mumble, gripe, and moan. I am still tired, right down to the bone. Give me a three, if you will. Cause this last line will not rhyme. :p I hate poetry, by the way. Maybe even more so the so-called sophisticated stuff. At least limericks have jingle, a little life, and are not usually nearly so sappy. Still grumbling! Bah!
.
I neither know nor sometimes think it is any of my business. When it comes to my life, a little information would be nice though. The kitchen is starting to take shape, most of the dishes are cleaned and put up, including the pots and pans. Food has been cooked, the pot for the rice cleaned right away, laundry is being done, and beans are on soak for cooking tomorrow. This is how I like to live. It does not take that much time or effort, and yet that little time and effort is not available to me usually. I can even do this and still game.
Why it works today and not yesterday anyone may guess at. I at first thought it was eating, and rice, again. But, no. I did not get to cooking until I had dug through the kitchen AND felt secure that I would continue to do so. More mess to the pile for a temporary food is more frustrating than not. I still need to get the trash out tonight, and will do the weekly complete scrub of the kitty litter boxes. The rest of the house is getting 'lick and spit' on my way through, though it will need a good deal more. I am hoping to get my house up to Mom specs, within my abilities mind you, and then keep it that way at least until I visit her, if I am able to do that.
I have no clue why the carburetor works today, but not tomorrow. Or is it the accelerator that sticks or the fuel line that fouls. There are too many symptoms, if it all comes down to pure unadulterated exhaustion. The root cause, something I cannot treat. Three months of heavy exercise did not cure it either. Every single day I worked out I had to push with all I had to get out the door or to get started, and that was with a stimulant. The only thing that showed me was that when I have the way, my will is indeed good. Anti-depressants, when stopped, led to no worse a life but ended suicidal thinking. That is not the answer. Mood stabilizers were only partially useful to counteract the anti-depressants. Talk about creating one's own problems to solve, I think psychiatrists have that in the bag, though only after learning from doctors. Go figure why I have no trust.
Grumble, mumble, gripe, and moan. I am still tired, right down to the bone. Give me a three, if you will. Cause this last line will not rhyme. :p I hate poetry, by the way. Maybe even more so the so-called sophisticated stuff. At least limericks have jingle, a little life, and are not usually nearly so sappy. Still grumbling! Bah!
Rice.
.
.
Such a simple item. A grain, probably developed thousands of years ago or more, I would only assume from some grass. I do not really have an interest in that history, the biology (such as it is) surrounding the natural and modified state of the grain, or any of that. I, simply put, have no interest. What does interest me is the grain as a food.
I cooked a batch recently, as my kitchen is actually starting to resemble a kitchen again. A few days on that feed bag has seen me to being fed, being rightly full, and having normalized bowl movements. Now, I use whole grain rice. White is fine for some but I always feel hungry after eating white rice. Which, to me, was a clue. It is also part of the reason I am trying to switch to whole grain pasta, same same. McDonald's food can allow me to function in a g.i. way, but why not do that with rice and hugely fewer calories? Not only does whole grain do all these things, but it truly takes care of my hunger with quite a bit less product. I need 3k calories from McDonalds to do what 200 or 300 calories of brown rice can do. If nothing else, compare prices, look at long term health issues, and there you go.
No, I will never quit McDonald's food. I will simply use it as a treat... for getting off my butt and into town, for doing something right, and even then only a few times a month. Plus, that treat will have to share the spot with my favorite Mexican restaurant and my favorite steak house. Given my wallet issues, treats of all sorts will be slim. It is not about not enjoying foods, it is about not only eating to enjoy, or even eating just for volume. I cannot even quite say that, because I love my rice and beans, if I cannot eat it in volume as it is quite filling.
If you want it on, eat the stuff that turns it on. If you are lost, listen. This stuff is not just good for you, it is good. You might have to get used to it, but once you do, you will understand. Consider it medicine, until you realize it is not. Yes, a plug. But it is a non-commercial plug. You can get whole grain foods at any store, and possibly even grow it yourself should you have the time, inclination, land, and such. And the plug is as much for you, the reader, as it is for proper foods. I am dying. I am dying fast. Nothing, at this point, will change it. But I want to die doing the right things anyway.
In the Navy, my nickname was Madonna. It 'gingles' with another of my names and was based on the fact that I was tight. Tons of double entendres going on there, and no I am not even close to gay. But I ran things as well as dictators are supposed to run things but in an ideal way. I expected, and got, the best. I pushed others and myself harshly, offering rewards when due. I showed and told and expected. And it worked nearly flawlessly, if with some serious work on my end it was work I enjoyed. Success is very sweet smelling. So, sue me if I still try. Dying or not, that is how I roll. Now, get some whole grain foods and eat. You can thank me later.
.
Such a simple item. A grain, probably developed thousands of years ago or more, I would only assume from some grass. I do not really have an interest in that history, the biology (such as it is) surrounding the natural and modified state of the grain, or any of that. I, simply put, have no interest. What does interest me is the grain as a food.
I cooked a batch recently, as my kitchen is actually starting to resemble a kitchen again. A few days on that feed bag has seen me to being fed, being rightly full, and having normalized bowl movements. Now, I use whole grain rice. White is fine for some but I always feel hungry after eating white rice. Which, to me, was a clue. It is also part of the reason I am trying to switch to whole grain pasta, same same. McDonald's food can allow me to function in a g.i. way, but why not do that with rice and hugely fewer calories? Not only does whole grain do all these things, but it truly takes care of my hunger with quite a bit less product. I need 3k calories from McDonalds to do what 200 or 300 calories of brown rice can do. If nothing else, compare prices, look at long term health issues, and there you go.
No, I will never quit McDonald's food. I will simply use it as a treat... for getting off my butt and into town, for doing something right, and even then only a few times a month. Plus, that treat will have to share the spot with my favorite Mexican restaurant and my favorite steak house. Given my wallet issues, treats of all sorts will be slim. It is not about not enjoying foods, it is about not only eating to enjoy, or even eating just for volume. I cannot even quite say that, because I love my rice and beans, if I cannot eat it in volume as it is quite filling.
If you want it on, eat the stuff that turns it on. If you are lost, listen. This stuff is not just good for you, it is good. You might have to get used to it, but once you do, you will understand. Consider it medicine, until you realize it is not. Yes, a plug. But it is a non-commercial plug. You can get whole grain foods at any store, and possibly even grow it yourself should you have the time, inclination, land, and such. And the plug is as much for you, the reader, as it is for proper foods. I am dying. I am dying fast. Nothing, at this point, will change it. But I want to die doing the right things anyway.
In the Navy, my nickname was Madonna. It 'gingles' with another of my names and was based on the fact that I was tight. Tons of double entendres going on there, and no I am not even close to gay. But I ran things as well as dictators are supposed to run things but in an ideal way. I expected, and got, the best. I pushed others and myself harshly, offering rewards when due. I showed and told and expected. And it worked nearly flawlessly, if with some serious work on my end it was work I enjoyed. Success is very sweet smelling. So, sue me if I still try. Dying or not, that is how I roll. Now, get some whole grain foods and eat. You can thank me later.
Shooting.
.
.
Have you ever wanted to learn to shoot? Oh, no worries about owning a .308 or a 30-30, a .22 rifle would be just fine. There are people who teach this, and for a small fee. They probably teach relatively close to where you live. As a fact, if I can get in gear, I would love to go to one of their functions. Oh, sure, I can shoot. Rifle, pistol, my mouth, that would not be the point mostly. I would like to have them cover ground I might have missed, have someone offer advice on things I might have learned incorrectly, and to just share some time with fellow shooters. By the way, women and young ones have a much reduced fee if too the fee is not all that much anyway.
The Group is called Appleseed. If you click on the name, you will be directed to their home page. If nothing else, stop by and look at who they are and what they do. There are not many causes I really go with, even the NRA has ruffled my feathers recently. This group, however, seems to be simply and purely about teaching an American tradition. I guess I like it simple. When it gets too political, it can be turned I think. Anyway...
Good night... morning... whatever. Be well.
.
Have you ever wanted to learn to shoot? Oh, no worries about owning a .308 or a 30-30, a .22 rifle would be just fine. There are people who teach this, and for a small fee. They probably teach relatively close to where you live. As a fact, if I can get in gear, I would love to go to one of their functions. Oh, sure, I can shoot. Rifle, pistol, my mouth, that would not be the point mostly. I would like to have them cover ground I might have missed, have someone offer advice on things I might have learned incorrectly, and to just share some time with fellow shooters. By the way, women and young ones have a much reduced fee if too the fee is not all that much anyway.
The Group is called Appleseed. If you click on the name, you will be directed to their home page. If nothing else, stop by and look at who they are and what they do. There are not many causes I really go with, even the NRA has ruffled my feathers recently. This group, however, seems to be simply and purely about teaching an American tradition. I guess I like it simple. When it gets too political, it can be turned I think. Anyway...
Good night... morning... whatever. Be well.
Saturday, March 5, 2011
Stuck, still.
.
.
Well, it has been... a while since I have been out. I simply cannot get it going. I am still losing track of external things, but I keep my days and nights separated. And, I am aware of time passing. The cats get fed and tended. Food... well, it just has not been available to a greater degree, for myself. I keep milk and caffeine on hand, the rest sort of... happens or does not. I am hoping as things warm up I will be able, willing, interested, or whatever it takes, to do more.
I purchased hamburger at Wal-Mart. It was a convenience purchase. I have done it before and it worked well enough. This time, however, is my last. I will try to finish it up, I do hate to waste. But the stuff is retched. Connective tissue and fat that is not from the meat, is my guess, is used as thirty percent of the "product". I honestly would not feed this to my dog, if I had one. That is right, my dog would eat better than I would. I do not know if this is a change in their "product" lines, an economic reality, or if I just got lucky in previous purchases. The thing is, it was no less expensive than my usual store. I simply shopped there because I was shopping too late or on the wrong side of town without an interest in driving through town to shop. Never again, that is all I can say.
Well, I need to get to some things. Including dinner. I have not eaten in... a while. It is time. A few dishes while I am stirring and fussing out there, a little tidying up here and there (though the Lord knows, it could use more than a little). Still, that is how it goes. I can only do what I can when I can.
Good night.
.
Well, it has been... a while since I have been out. I simply cannot get it going. I am still losing track of external things, but I keep my days and nights separated. And, I am aware of time passing. The cats get fed and tended. Food... well, it just has not been available to a greater degree, for myself. I keep milk and caffeine on hand, the rest sort of... happens or does not. I am hoping as things warm up I will be able, willing, interested, or whatever it takes, to do more.
I purchased hamburger at Wal-Mart. It was a convenience purchase. I have done it before and it worked well enough. This time, however, is my last. I will try to finish it up, I do hate to waste. But the stuff is retched. Connective tissue and fat that is not from the meat, is my guess, is used as thirty percent of the "product". I honestly would not feed this to my dog, if I had one. That is right, my dog would eat better than I would. I do not know if this is a change in their "product" lines, an economic reality, or if I just got lucky in previous purchases. The thing is, it was no less expensive than my usual store. I simply shopped there because I was shopping too late or on the wrong side of town without an interest in driving through town to shop. Never again, that is all I can say.
Well, I need to get to some things. Including dinner. I have not eaten in... a while. It is time. A few dishes while I am stirring and fussing out there, a little tidying up here and there (though the Lord knows, it could use more than a little). Still, that is how it goes. I can only do what I can when I can.
Good night.
Friday, March 4, 2011
Fame, lauds, and other such.
.
.
Watching from the sidelines, I see people attain fame, fortune, and power. People, often, who should never be near those functions. How, I have asked, do they do it? Ah, I see. Again, as I visited this topic many times in my life. Question, learn, forget, re-evaluate. Such is life. Then again, exploring topics at various ages in one's life is a good thing. In any case, I have some conclusions.
How does one get rich, famous, or powerful? One learns how to sell. They sell themselves, they grab ideas and sell them, they test the markets for what is in demand and develop a package. And then they get to work. They work on themselves, making sure they live the life and lifestyle that goes with the package. Kennedy (pick one) for example lived a life of debauchery and promised things that were impossible in the long run to people for their votes. The debauchery went with the unsustainability of his economic and social policies. A package. And he sold it to the media, uninformed or uncaring participants, and whoever he could buy, threaten, or cheat into his game.
So it goes with anything and anyone famous. Some, of course, do it more as a sideline. Adding a revenue stream to minor notoriety on other issues. How many actors do advertising, create their own brand of clothing or cookware, or such? Any that can get that going. Sometimes the name is merely used, often though the star creates the line and looks for suppliers.
While this is not all bad, and to some degree not at all bad, in other ways it is the corruption inside all of us. How much are we willing to give up, change, or otherwise surrender to gain whatever it is we are looking to achieve? Political correctness must be toted by any wishing to make a large splash. It is a lie, of course, but... money, money, money. Some sell their flesh, in various ways. And, in truth, we all do, to various degrees. We have to. But... to what level are we truly willing to go? You want to have it all you might have to sell it all.
All I am saying is, I am, largely, happy to not be in that race. I am pleased to be humble and small. I have seen the options in my own life. And, I have stepped away from it. By needs as much as want, though. Being crippled leaves little in the way of attaining. Even when it became noted that I was having problems in the Navy, friends... disappeared. No one wants to be close to a sinking ship. And yet, I have consciously made the choice to back away from some options to power or fame or money as well. I like being humble. Even if YOU cannot see it. :p
Have a great day. And, if you are going to sell, sell for the right reasons. Then do not drift once you attain. The price is more than your dignity, it might be your soul.
.
Watching from the sidelines, I see people attain fame, fortune, and power. People, often, who should never be near those functions. How, I have asked, do they do it? Ah, I see. Again, as I visited this topic many times in my life. Question, learn, forget, re-evaluate. Such is life. Then again, exploring topics at various ages in one's life is a good thing. In any case, I have some conclusions.
How does one get rich, famous, or powerful? One learns how to sell. They sell themselves, they grab ideas and sell them, they test the markets for what is in demand and develop a package. And then they get to work. They work on themselves, making sure they live the life and lifestyle that goes with the package. Kennedy (pick one) for example lived a life of debauchery and promised things that were impossible in the long run to people for their votes. The debauchery went with the unsustainability of his economic and social policies. A package. And he sold it to the media, uninformed or uncaring participants, and whoever he could buy, threaten, or cheat into his game.
So it goes with anything and anyone famous. Some, of course, do it more as a sideline. Adding a revenue stream to minor notoriety on other issues. How many actors do advertising, create their own brand of clothing or cookware, or such? Any that can get that going. Sometimes the name is merely used, often though the star creates the line and looks for suppliers.
While this is not all bad, and to some degree not at all bad, in other ways it is the corruption inside all of us. How much are we willing to give up, change, or otherwise surrender to gain whatever it is we are looking to achieve? Political correctness must be toted by any wishing to make a large splash. It is a lie, of course, but... money, money, money. Some sell their flesh, in various ways. And, in truth, we all do, to various degrees. We have to. But... to what level are we truly willing to go? You want to have it all you might have to sell it all.
All I am saying is, I am, largely, happy to not be in that race. I am pleased to be humble and small. I have seen the options in my own life. And, I have stepped away from it. By needs as much as want, though. Being crippled leaves little in the way of attaining. Even when it became noted that I was having problems in the Navy, friends... disappeared. No one wants to be close to a sinking ship. And yet, I have consciously made the choice to back away from some options to power or fame or money as well. I like being humble. Even if YOU cannot see it. :p
Have a great day. And, if you are going to sell, sell for the right reasons. Then do not drift once you attain. The price is more than your dignity, it might be your soul.
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Thinly devised.
.
.
The world, that is. Or more the world of men. Cliques here, odd notions there, prejudices everywhere. Walk into the world of the upper quarter or tenth, and you best be dressed exquisitely. From brands to styles to haircut, one thing out of line and you are spotted immediately. Exquisite frauds do well there, unless it is found that they have no money. Front and back, it all has to be real or the participant will be excluded. That works with the poor, too. It works that way with groups of men, women, and children. Every subset has expectations and demands. If you do not fit, you will be excluded. I have a large group of areas where I may attend, but I fit none of them as is ultimately required. For good or ill, I am my own.
Still, I look on how thinly most human relations are devised and wonder at the operation. Oh, do not believe me. Find several places you know you do not belong, if you can get in and it is safe, go to those places. Go once as you are. Go another time far removed after pulling out all of the stops to fit in. Look at what you had to do to try and fit in. Understand that is all artificial. It has all been codified into the lives of those who do fit in. Those who fit in rarely even consider the artifices at some point in their journey to be part of their chosen crowd. No, most cannot simply drift to where they are. Even bums make very difficult choices to be what they are.
Why all this fuss. Well, women. No, I really am not "butt ugly" as another has termed being unattractive. I am also not a handsome man. I am just another or maybe a little less. As I rate things. Yeah, I realize, for women it is not about looks. They may like or dislike how a man looks, but his power and leadership and some other things can overcome her notions of appearances so easily that appearances are almost laughably off the list of their real wants. However, in looking for a woman, I am looking for something more substantive. I am starting to think that it really does just come down to charming her down from shrew to wife. And any more, just getting to the goo. That is not new. Men and women are both feral, and when not confined by social morals and legal harassment, we get what we got here. What we have here is a failure to communicate. I want more.
As well, it leads into the thoughts regarding decision making. So much of it seems to be based so thinly on alliances, appearances, activities, pseudo beliefs, and such, created on the basis of little more than brands worn, profession, the religion one was born into, or other things that have little to do with who people really are or who they wish to be. I live in an artificial world. Trying to be real in it is both trying and lonesome. And, yet, I would not, could not, have it any other way. At least I have not been offered hemlock. Then again, who even knows me? *grins*
Though to be truthful, I came to be where I am by falling out of what I had wanted and tried to be. Without function in society, I have no need to kiss some jerks butt to make sure I can keep doing what I am doing so that I can bring home a pay check. I do not need to worry about my hair being cut just so, I do not need to wear a suit or other formal or informal uniform, I do not need to get along with my peers, and more I have never felt compelled to do so, knowing from elementary school on that I had no peers at my age, and few amongst my school aged elders. I fell out young then I fell out completely. Most do not have that "luxury".
Well, I best get to a few things. Have a great day. One question first. Are you real?
.
The world, that is. Or more the world of men. Cliques here, odd notions there, prejudices everywhere. Walk into the world of the upper quarter or tenth, and you best be dressed exquisitely. From brands to styles to haircut, one thing out of line and you are spotted immediately. Exquisite frauds do well there, unless it is found that they have no money. Front and back, it all has to be real or the participant will be excluded. That works with the poor, too. It works that way with groups of men, women, and children. Every subset has expectations and demands. If you do not fit, you will be excluded. I have a large group of areas where I may attend, but I fit none of them as is ultimately required. For good or ill, I am my own.
Still, I look on how thinly most human relations are devised and wonder at the operation. Oh, do not believe me. Find several places you know you do not belong, if you can get in and it is safe, go to those places. Go once as you are. Go another time far removed after pulling out all of the stops to fit in. Look at what you had to do to try and fit in. Understand that is all artificial. It has all been codified into the lives of those who do fit in. Those who fit in rarely even consider the artifices at some point in their journey to be part of their chosen crowd. No, most cannot simply drift to where they are. Even bums make very difficult choices to be what they are.
Why all this fuss. Well, women. No, I really am not "butt ugly" as another has termed being unattractive. I am also not a handsome man. I am just another or maybe a little less. As I rate things. Yeah, I realize, for women it is not about looks. They may like or dislike how a man looks, but his power and leadership and some other things can overcome her notions of appearances so easily that appearances are almost laughably off the list of their real wants. However, in looking for a woman, I am looking for something more substantive. I am starting to think that it really does just come down to charming her down from shrew to wife. And any more, just getting to the goo. That is not new. Men and women are both feral, and when not confined by social morals and legal harassment, we get what we got here. What we have here is a failure to communicate. I want more.
As well, it leads into the thoughts regarding decision making. So much of it seems to be based so thinly on alliances, appearances, activities, pseudo beliefs, and such, created on the basis of little more than brands worn, profession, the religion one was born into, or other things that have little to do with who people really are or who they wish to be. I live in an artificial world. Trying to be real in it is both trying and lonesome. And, yet, I would not, could not, have it any other way. At least I have not been offered hemlock. Then again, who even knows me? *grins*
Though to be truthful, I came to be where I am by falling out of what I had wanted and tried to be. Without function in society, I have no need to kiss some jerks butt to make sure I can keep doing what I am doing so that I can bring home a pay check. I do not need to worry about my hair being cut just so, I do not need to wear a suit or other formal or informal uniform, I do not need to get along with my peers, and more I have never felt compelled to do so, knowing from elementary school on that I had no peers at my age, and few amongst my school aged elders. I fell out young then I fell out completely. Most do not have that "luxury".
Well, I best get to a few things. Have a great day. One question first. Are you real?
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Okay, now, get this.
.
.
While I was out a bit ago, I stopped somewhere for food. Waitresses, of course, flirt. Flirt equals tips, period. I know this, you know this, she knows this, wives and girlfriends (may they never meet) know this. Fine, I understand. I engaged the young woman, 25 or less and quite easily in the "8" range, being conservative. (And, if you have your druthers, marry a waitress, trust me. Anyway.) After a little this and that, all on the up-and-up mind you, she just came out and suggested where I should stop for a beer, and when. Or at least, I am told, that is when and where she goes. Okay guys, I got scooped on this one. Tempted? Lord knows it.
I came right home after, looked in the mirror, and all I could say was... WTF? Just... words escape me. And she has not been the only one. The problem is... I am incredulous. Go into your back yard and stub your toe on a pound and a half gold nugget. After which, we will chat about this. That is all I am saying right there. Oh, and yeah... these things test my celibacy. Oh do they.
Good night.
.
While I was out a bit ago, I stopped somewhere for food. Waitresses, of course, flirt. Flirt equals tips, period. I know this, you know this, she knows this, wives and girlfriends (may they never meet) know this. Fine, I understand. I engaged the young woman, 25 or less and quite easily in the "8" range, being conservative. (And, if you have your druthers, marry a waitress, trust me. Anyway.) After a little this and that, all on the up-and-up mind you, she just came out and suggested where I should stop for a beer, and when. Or at least, I am told, that is when and where she goes. Okay guys, I got scooped on this one. Tempted? Lord knows it.
I came right home after, looked in the mirror, and all I could say was... WTF? Just... words escape me. And she has not been the only one. The problem is... I am incredulous. Go into your back yard and stub your toe on a pound and a half gold nugget. After which, we will chat about this. That is all I am saying right there. Oh, and yeah... these things test my celibacy. Oh do they.
Good night.
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Nope.
.
.
Again, the doctor said no. She said as a single mother, she had worked too hard for her medical license. She said I could see another doctor in the V.A. (though, after seeing three with the same results, I have no hope for that, here), or I could check myself into a psych clinic where they would, by the way, tend my blood pressure issues. Neither option is viable. The only thing I know about psych hospitals is that they need to be avoided slightly more vigorously than people should avoid academia (if seeking a legitimate education, only go there to cheat your way to a job you are under-qualified to work... that includes engineering).
I did suggest I would take a water pill I know to have had no ill effects. I am starting to collect fluid around the ankles again (and probably everywhere). No problem with that, but it looks like that is the end of the line there. The tests are back on, I do believe. They want to check my endocrine system. They have never checked most of these things out. There is a chance that is the problem. She so badly wants it to merely be a case of bipolar and high blood pressure though. They all do. It lets them off the hook for 20 years of piss poor medical care, misdiagnosis, and probably an avoidable disability case. She so wants it to be merely my fault. It, trust me, is not.
If those tests, and MRI scan and some other things, do not prove out, it looks like I am at the end of the road as far as medication and medical intervention. I simply do not have enough money at this point to pay for private medical care, which might also include looking for a doctor who would prescribe what works. As my stats spiral in the negative direction, the chances get worse. So, I guess, once again, I am on a death list. Obamacare is what you will all get soon. If you do not fit their program, you will simply be allowed to die, even with something right over there that works. Not for you. Only the bell toll for you.
So be it. I did not expect much today and got what I expected. The water pill should be helpful. My pulse is also high now, probably due to water build up. We will just have to see. That is my day in a nutshell. Oh, but I did stop at my favorite restaurant and ordered shrimp ceviche again. I did not eat anything else there, though I did buy some food to take home. And, on another good note, I was out of the house by noon. I was quite pleased with that, and even got a few chores tended before I left. Yeah, that was good.
Good night.
.
Again, the doctor said no. She said as a single mother, she had worked too hard for her medical license. She said I could see another doctor in the V.A. (though, after seeing three with the same results, I have no hope for that, here), or I could check myself into a psych clinic where they would, by the way, tend my blood pressure issues. Neither option is viable. The only thing I know about psych hospitals is that they need to be avoided slightly more vigorously than people should avoid academia (if seeking a legitimate education, only go there to cheat your way to a job you are under-qualified to work... that includes engineering).
I did suggest I would take a water pill I know to have had no ill effects. I am starting to collect fluid around the ankles again (and probably everywhere). No problem with that, but it looks like that is the end of the line there. The tests are back on, I do believe. They want to check my endocrine system. They have never checked most of these things out. There is a chance that is the problem. She so badly wants it to merely be a case of bipolar and high blood pressure though. They all do. It lets them off the hook for 20 years of piss poor medical care, misdiagnosis, and probably an avoidable disability case. She so wants it to be merely my fault. It, trust me, is not.
If those tests, and MRI scan and some other things, do not prove out, it looks like I am at the end of the road as far as medication and medical intervention. I simply do not have enough money at this point to pay for private medical care, which might also include looking for a doctor who would prescribe what works. As my stats spiral in the negative direction, the chances get worse. So, I guess, once again, I am on a death list. Obamacare is what you will all get soon. If you do not fit their program, you will simply be allowed to die, even with something right over there that works. Not for you. Only the bell toll for you.
So be it. I did not expect much today and got what I expected. The water pill should be helpful. My pulse is also high now, probably due to water build up. We will just have to see. That is my day in a nutshell. Oh, but I did stop at my favorite restaurant and ordered shrimp ceviche again. I did not eat anything else there, though I did buy some food to take home. And, on another good note, I was out of the house by noon. I was quite pleased with that, and even got a few chores tended before I left. Yeah, that was good.
Good night.
Up and running. At a slow walk, that is.
.
.
I could not get to sleep last night. I am beginning to hate doctor appointments, so either through stress, resentment, frustration, or all of that and more, getting to sleep the night before is tough. Still, I got up and am actually chucking along at a goodly pace, with or without considering the situation. My goal is to be out of here by noon. Could happen, though I am eyeballing 13:00 as the most likely scenario and somewhere between those numbers as the next most likely time I will be out. That is just the way it works.
Strange dreams have been painting my eyelids of late. Much of it themed around people from the high schools I attended, and mostly the girls. Well, all about some of the girls. No, not so much sexual, though how can one dream of women and not have a little bubble gum and sex notion going on? Especially when we were all young. Quaint memories? Hmm, I did not have a quaint life. I suppose I idealized such though. Yeah, something like that. The dreams have also been dissecting human decision making. Looking through the strata, causes, getting into the 'moment' of the decision maker, pulling back and seeing the big picture, looking at the micro-aspects, evaluating the outcomes based on the outcomes, the reasoning, emotional value, religious teaching, and many other ways. I would call it something like full blown thought autopsies. My decision stands, most people are stinker thinkers and should not be allowed to handle money or their own lives even. Thank God we have the government and credit card companies! (snark -off)
I do have an appointment today. I am looking forward to it similar to the manner in which most look forward to seeing a dentist and taking their automobile in for repairs on the same day. Oil, blood, and money to be drilled on the same day. I do not mind the dentist, though I have come to dread the shop. Those blood suckers cannot be trusted by their mother. Doctors seem to have decided it is better to see me dead than possibly functioning. It may literally be political. One less staunch conservative in the economic world is considered something which allows them to set aside the (probably defunct now anyway, considering abortion) "...do no harm..." part of their creed. Well, it is all I have. Today we will decide if we will go forward or if I will simply complete the dying process unhindered. Yeah, I know what it means.
Best to get moving. On to waking a bit then out the door. A shower first, so I am dry and clean before I walk out the door. The sun is up, out, and smiling like the blazes. It should be a great day for a drive. Have a good day.
.
I could not get to sleep last night. I am beginning to hate doctor appointments, so either through stress, resentment, frustration, or all of that and more, getting to sleep the night before is tough. Still, I got up and am actually chucking along at a goodly pace, with or without considering the situation. My goal is to be out of here by noon. Could happen, though I am eyeballing 13:00 as the most likely scenario and somewhere between those numbers as the next most likely time I will be out. That is just the way it works.
Strange dreams have been painting my eyelids of late. Much of it themed around people from the high schools I attended, and mostly the girls. Well, all about some of the girls. No, not so much sexual, though how can one dream of women and not have a little bubble gum and sex notion going on? Especially when we were all young. Quaint memories? Hmm, I did not have a quaint life. I suppose I idealized such though. Yeah, something like that. The dreams have also been dissecting human decision making. Looking through the strata, causes, getting into the 'moment' of the decision maker, pulling back and seeing the big picture, looking at the micro-aspects, evaluating the outcomes based on the outcomes, the reasoning, emotional value, religious teaching, and many other ways. I would call it something like full blown thought autopsies. My decision stands, most people are stinker thinkers and should not be allowed to handle money or their own lives even. Thank God we have the government and credit card companies! (snark -off)
I do have an appointment today. I am looking forward to it similar to the manner in which most look forward to seeing a dentist and taking their automobile in for repairs on the same day. Oil, blood, and money to be drilled on the same day. I do not mind the dentist, though I have come to dread the shop. Those blood suckers cannot be trusted by their mother. Doctors seem to have decided it is better to see me dead than possibly functioning. It may literally be political. One less staunch conservative in the economic world is considered something which allows them to set aside the (probably defunct now anyway, considering abortion) "...do no harm..." part of their creed. Well, it is all I have. Today we will decide if we will go forward or if I will simply complete the dying process unhindered. Yeah, I know what it means.
Best to get moving. On to waking a bit then out the door. A shower first, so I am dry and clean before I walk out the door. The sun is up, out, and smiling like the blazes. It should be a great day for a drive. Have a good day.
Monday, February 28, 2011
Woot!
.
.
Nothing big. I tried on the jeans I bought, finally. Though I can get into 38 waist, I am not quite there yet. But the 40 waist is just a wee loose. I could not keep them on without a solidly cinching belt. Yeah, I like it. And, as spring and then summer arrives, I am hoping to get to the 38 and maybe on down to 36 (if I will save the others). That is six sizes in about 2 years. Further, my weight has only come down, say, 50 pounds. My weight has not dropped since last summer, essentially. Smaller size, same weight... that means one thing. I am getting stronger.
Well, on to other things. I took the trash to the bin, but it is the only sack so I will not bother lugging it to the curb. I would like to have gotten recycling out, there is room only for one more bag without some effort. Still, it is mostly weeks (months?) of soda cans, so it is easily compacted. Dishes, kitty litter box, laundry, and maybe a trip to see my friend. I need to wake up a bit first. Been working on that since 9:00, a tug and pull kind of day so far. I did shower, I did trim my beard and mustache, I did try on the jeans, and I chased and ran from the "kids". Sassy loves to hunt... and be hunted too! *squeals* Or, more... *meow* She loves it. Even Sam loves to be waylaid and frizzled once in a while... Hey, they started it. And they do love it.
Have a great day.
.
Nothing big. I tried on the jeans I bought, finally. Though I can get into 38 waist, I am not quite there yet. But the 40 waist is just a wee loose. I could not keep them on without a solidly cinching belt. Yeah, I like it. And, as spring and then summer arrives, I am hoping to get to the 38 and maybe on down to 36 (if I will save the others). That is six sizes in about 2 years. Further, my weight has only come down, say, 50 pounds. My weight has not dropped since last summer, essentially. Smaller size, same weight... that means one thing. I am getting stronger.
Well, on to other things. I took the trash to the bin, but it is the only sack so I will not bother lugging it to the curb. I would like to have gotten recycling out, there is room only for one more bag without some effort. Still, it is mostly weeks (months?) of soda cans, so it is easily compacted. Dishes, kitty litter box, laundry, and maybe a trip to see my friend. I need to wake up a bit first. Been working on that since 9:00, a tug and pull kind of day so far. I did shower, I did trim my beard and mustache, I did try on the jeans, and I chased and ran from the "kids". Sassy loves to hunt... and be hunted too! *squeals* Or, more... *meow* She loves it. Even Sam loves to be waylaid and frizzled once in a while... Hey, they started it. And they do love it.
Have a great day.
Sunday, February 27, 2011
My mother has changed the menu.
.
.
She is thinking she would rather have me drive out for a visit. I am not certain what the deal is. I put out some feelers to test the wind and may have some ideas. There are some practical reasons she gave, but there is at least something she is not saying and probably several things giving her pause about travel in the near future. Trust me, I know this woman. Deviously secretive, definitely full of plots, though I would not say her plots or deviousness is necessarily evil or dark. If too I do not fully trust. She does what she does for both her own and external reasons. Now, this is fine. It will give me time to build finances a bit more soundly before the trip. Though she is considering coming out later in the year, which might not be possible. It is a money issue. This or that, I cannot guarantee I can or would do both. The drive will be more expensive than a flight and the need is for me to drive. Or the want. There are reasons for that.
I am hoping to get to a few things tomorrow. I have some bills to check, some tasks out of the home to do, and a few things in house that need tending. I have been rather lax, I need to find a way to push. I need to try harder. I want to have the home as clean when I go as I would if she were visiting. I also need to get beans and rice on the ready, maybe boiled eggs as well. I will need food to push through, lots of it. Two or three small meals a day is what is required. We will see.
Later.
.
She is thinking she would rather have me drive out for a visit. I am not certain what the deal is. I put out some feelers to test the wind and may have some ideas. There are some practical reasons she gave, but there is at least something she is not saying and probably several things giving her pause about travel in the near future. Trust me, I know this woman. Deviously secretive, definitely full of plots, though I would not say her plots or deviousness is necessarily evil or dark. If too I do not fully trust. She does what she does for both her own and external reasons. Now, this is fine. It will give me time to build finances a bit more soundly before the trip. Though she is considering coming out later in the year, which might not be possible. It is a money issue. This or that, I cannot guarantee I can or would do both. The drive will be more expensive than a flight and the need is for me to drive. Or the want. There are reasons for that.
I am hoping to get to a few things tomorrow. I have some bills to check, some tasks out of the home to do, and a few things in house that need tending. I have been rather lax, I need to find a way to push. I need to try harder. I want to have the home as clean when I go as I would if she were visiting. I also need to get beans and rice on the ready, maybe boiled eggs as well. I will need food to push through, lots of it. Two or three small meals a day is what is required. We will see.
Later.
We have a healthy snow back.
.
.
It happened over the last week. Me, of course, blithely unaware for the most part. I looked out today to see someone had cleared my drive. I need to find out who is doing this. No, I do not owe them anything. They made their choice, they did this work and have been doing it. What I do have is gratitude, something that is mine and which I feel a need to express. And, I will.
Television is such trash to watch these days. When my mother concludes her visit here, I will end cable television. Trying to make women into warriors, minorities into heroes, does not work for me at all. Women can never be warriors until you can bring me a healthy typical woman of my age and she can defeat me. Or even hold her own with me in hand to hand combat. Unfortunately or not, as is, I could kill the average women with meek punches, let alone what I can unleash if pressed. Minorities cannot be heroes until they, as groups, stop being full out thugs as general populations. There is no compromise.
Up late but up early too. Still maintain a day schedule, if that is slipping. I am doing more than just staying up, but losing my grip on "just staying up". I do not know, for sure, if gaining one loses the other. I will not even speculate. After two decades of illness, one would think they would have a handle on it. But before coming to Utah, I was all but blind to what goes on in the deeper throws of the illness. I am just learning. Who would have thought a simple move would make that much of a difference. Certainly not I. I have yet to feel the bite of winter weather on my face, in the mountains, as per my dreams. But that day will come. I will, in time, be winter camping.
I look at my body. It is strengthening somehow. After twenty years, for whatever reason, I am still powerful. My stamina, of course, is weak. But why is my body still so potent in other ways? I do not understand all things. Though I might suggest fear has something to do with it. Enough fighting, enough other trouble, constant doubt through much of life, have lead me to always being ready. My flesh anyway. It was trained young, it was trained hard... brutal. No matter what happened 'upstairs', 'down stairs' is it's own animal. That notion, at one time, really helped lead to a decision to self terminate. Then, among many other things, I learned I could trust that beast. Still, that long and it is more like... I am mothballed than anything else. All is ready. I even gain muscle and strength and stamina at an almost alarming rate. From start to stop, bench pressing 300 plus in less than 3 months after a long hiatus, and while beginning to swim, going from a few laps a day to a mile a day, three times a week, in that same period at the same time. My body is merely waiting to be activated. Odd.
Well, on to other things. Have a great Sunday. Get out and go to God's house if you can. He is waiting.
.
It happened over the last week. Me, of course, blithely unaware for the most part. I looked out today to see someone had cleared my drive. I need to find out who is doing this. No, I do not owe them anything. They made their choice, they did this work and have been doing it. What I do have is gratitude, something that is mine and which I feel a need to express. And, I will.
Television is such trash to watch these days. When my mother concludes her visit here, I will end cable television. Trying to make women into warriors, minorities into heroes, does not work for me at all. Women can never be warriors until you can bring me a healthy typical woman of my age and she can defeat me. Or even hold her own with me in hand to hand combat. Unfortunately or not, as is, I could kill the average women with meek punches, let alone what I can unleash if pressed. Minorities cannot be heroes until they, as groups, stop being full out thugs as general populations. There is no compromise.
Up late but up early too. Still maintain a day schedule, if that is slipping. I am doing more than just staying up, but losing my grip on "just staying up". I do not know, for sure, if gaining one loses the other. I will not even speculate. After two decades of illness, one would think they would have a handle on it. But before coming to Utah, I was all but blind to what goes on in the deeper throws of the illness. I am just learning. Who would have thought a simple move would make that much of a difference. Certainly not I. I have yet to feel the bite of winter weather on my face, in the mountains, as per my dreams. But that day will come. I will, in time, be winter camping.
I look at my body. It is strengthening somehow. After twenty years, for whatever reason, I am still powerful. My stamina, of course, is weak. But why is my body still so potent in other ways? I do not understand all things. Though I might suggest fear has something to do with it. Enough fighting, enough other trouble, constant doubt through much of life, have lead me to always being ready. My flesh anyway. It was trained young, it was trained hard... brutal. No matter what happened 'upstairs', 'down stairs' is it's own animal. That notion, at one time, really helped lead to a decision to self terminate. Then, among many other things, I learned I could trust that beast. Still, that long and it is more like... I am mothballed than anything else. All is ready. I even gain muscle and strength and stamina at an almost alarming rate. From start to stop, bench pressing 300 plus in less than 3 months after a long hiatus, and while beginning to swim, going from a few laps a day to a mile a day, three times a week, in that same period at the same time. My body is merely waiting to be activated. Odd.
Well, on to other things. Have a great Sunday. Get out and go to God's house if you can. He is waiting.
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