Archive | Random

Un-Celebratory

Anybody that has hung around this blog for more than a few seconds knows that I don’t have the sort of personality that celebrates a New Year. Or anything else for that matter, at least not without one eye looking at the half-empty glass about to fall onto the floor and break. And this year was my best year yet of non-celebrating: a few beers, some TV watchin’, food eatin’, and in bed by nine while Wifey fumed and mentally cursed me and my worsening attitude in the living room below.

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Conversations & Thoughts

On Monday, Jake The Dog’s veterinarian had a conversation with me in which she encouraged me to start thinking about Jake’s “current quality of life.” I’m pretty sure that almost every pet owner knows exactly what that means.

Given Jake’s hind leg issues, it’s a conversation that I have been expecting for some time now, but that doesn’t make it any easier.

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Ghosts of Christmas Past

We all have fond holiday memories, at least that’s what marketing departments around the world tell us, so it must be true.

Here are a few of mine; whether they are fond memories is up to you. At this point in my life, I just laugh, shake my head, and mutter some 21st century swear words I find more fitting than Ebenezer’s “Bah Humbug!”

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Noise-Bursts & Freight Trains

Today is hopefully the last in a shit show series of posts that went on way too long dedicated to me being ill in one form or another. — Management

Saturday brought Day 7 of Crud 2021 to me and Day 5 to Wifey. I would include B, but he’s 17, and his immune system got rid of his Crud roughly two days after he got it; if he had it at all, he still maintains that he was never actually sick, and it was an allergic reaction to a friend’s cat. Discrepancies on who was Cruded first and for how long aside, it’s been a long week/few months, and I’m happy to see the end of it. 

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From Head To Crud

The last time I posted here, I was bitching and moaning about the head cold I picked up. Well, that non-COVID-related illness turned into more than just a head cold, and three four days later, I am just now getting a bit of my mental and physical mojo back. Who would have thought that a bout of COVID would be easier to kick than whatever the hell this is?

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Overheard On Next Gen

Ah, the weekend. So many plans, so much to get out and do. Um, not so much.

The weekend started off with B going to visit a friend and coming home with a head cold, which led to me getting a head cold, which in turn led Wifey to get a head cold, and led all of us (OK, just me) to say “fuck it” and not do anything all weekend.

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A Nil-Nil Draw

I’ve spent the last few weeks months grappling with a level of holiday-induced anxiety that I’ve not experienced in some time, mostly because this was the first holiday since I-don’t-know-when that I wasn’t on some form of antidepressant. All that anxiety finally came to its anti-climactic conclusion on Thanksgiving (Thursday to the rest of the world) when I unveiled the newer, fatter, older, even more, unsuccessful version of myself to my family for the first time since Christmas Eve 2019.

Imagine playing a Hindenburg disaster-level shit show over and over again in your head for months, only to have the reality be a flaccid leftover birthday balloon found behind the couch. That, my friends, is my anxiety in a nutshell.

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Societal Reintroductions

My post COVID creep back into the world started on Wednesday with a short “Last Day of Quarantine” solo hike in the woods of the Sylvan Preserve. Then, I made it official on Thursday when I returned to the cold, sagging, well-milked bosom of society with a trip to Meijer to buy groceries. It was all very anti-climatic and soon forgotten.

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Shut Up & Play The Hits

NOTE: ALL POST-ILLNESS UPDATES ARE LOCATED BELOW

It’s been a month since I felt the need to post anything here; I apologize in advance for now breaking that silence like a wet fart birthed from betweenst the cheeks of that angry wino that hangs out on the corner of Roosevelt and Bluff. 

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