A post so crap it took three days to write
I woke up early this morning 75 pounds lighter, with no signs of depression in sight, a real job to go to, and a spring in my step as my about to be fully vaccinated self danced down the steps towards a hot cup of morning coffee.
Yeah, April fools. The vaccination part is true1, and the coffee was hot, but the rest is all lies. LIES, I SAY!! FUCKING LIES!!!
Saturday had no Saturday feel. Why, you ask? No footy to watch. Sure, there was World Cup Qualifying, but no game really spoke to me, and other than the England squad, footy on the world stage lacks the drama and top-class screenwriting of the Premier League; from the BIG 6 all the way down to the bottom three fighting for survival due to the beauty of Promotion/Relegation. Sigh.
So, with a so-called “Saturday” at my disposal, I returned to the Forest Hill Nature Area with my Nikon Z6 camera, a
500mm 600mm lens, a vintage macro lens, and Wifey.
Imagine, if you will, the opening credit montage of an early 1990’s British crime series on BBC America. I, the unassuming sheep farmer/pub-goer turned amateur photographer/mystery sleuth, make my way across the green moors of the English countryside with a jaunty spring in my step and a small film camera around my neck as my rambunctious border collie runs ahead doing border collie type stuff. I stop and look out at the rolling green hills in front of me; the camera pans the scene in my gaze before zooming in on my face and a twinkle in my all-knowing sleuthly eye as I light my pipe filled with 1
00% legal in the State of Michigan kush tobacco and then take a photo with my little jank camera.
Now imagine that absolutely none of that happened.
MINDBENDER II (THE WRATH OF KHAN)1
“Here, take this. It’s a mixture of horse placenta, baby spit, and the toenail of a sodomized goat, manufactured in the basement of a New Jersey pharmaceutical company/suburban home.”
“Will it slow my metabolism down even further and cause me to gain even more weight like all the other shit has?”
MINDBENDER II (THE WRATH OF KHAN)
“No, no, it was weight neutral in trials; it will just help with your want to leave the house. And who knows, it might even get you back on your bike or in the woods with your camera. Trade: Phenodihydrochloride benzelex. Street: The embalmer”
“Balls. I’ll swallow it and run a mile.”
Me grabs handful of colorful pills and shoves them down his throat.
MINDBENDER II (THE WRATH OF KHAN)
“Not those pills, THESE pills, those are my M&Ms, you stupid nipple. By the way, you still owe your $30 copay from our last session.”
Me proceeds to write a check with milk chocolate—now freed from its hard, colorful candy shell— smeared across his chubby face.
“What’s today’s date again?”2
— SCENE —
Somehow it’s Wednesday, and I’m trying to figure out what the hell I’ve done since my last unneeded post. Oh yeah, nothing. Well, at least nothing all that physical, that’s for sure.
To be honest, I have been struggling to find the want to leave the house for anything other than food and beer over the last couple of months, but in recent days the combination of warmer temps (hello 45˚, yo!!), sun, and an appointment with Mindbender II (The Wrath of Kahn) to change some shit up has helped to point me in the direction of unfucking myself and mild—but acceptable—increased motivation and energy levels.
“Blinded by the light,
Woke up like a douche1 in the middle of the night.”
— Blinded by The Light, by Manfred Mann’s Earth Band
After days, nay weeks, of being a morbidly obese, mentally drained housebound hermit, I ventured out into the world on Friday morning for a snowshoe at the Forest Hill Nature Area. Hooray for being a functioning adult.
Wow, that sort of felt good! The holidays aren’t such a pain in the ass when they are done from the comfort of your own home and without having to drive 14 hour hours round trip to be depressed and anxiety-ridden. It sort of sucks that it took a Global Pandemic and recommended travel and gathering restrictions (that many Americans seem to have flat-out ignored because they are morons) to make that happen, but I’m not complaining.
As you may or may not have noticed (I’m assuming the latter), I took a well-undeserved break from writing this shit show for a bit. I think all the writing about my late mother, dealing with depression, and other non-published projects took its toll on my Available For Use brain cells, and I found myself like the rest of the world for a week or so; not giving a shit about this blog. Not to mention I was busy making holiday dreams happen (not at all).
FRIDAY PART I
The past week has been an amalgamation of appointments, house duties, dad duties, holiday prep, dog care, and goofing off from the seat of my comfy chair while shoving handfuls of vitamin D down my throat and watching the last hints of summer tan drain away from my skin to leave it looking like the surface of a thrice-used teabag.
There is a special time in man’s life when he reaches a crossroad; one direction means that his life will stay exactly the same. While the other direction will have his life staying exactly the same, except he wasted time writing a blog post that no one—not even himself—
will should read. For most of the past week, I have taken the first route. Today, I take the path of increased time waste. Apparently I have some time, and it needs wasting.