Where I Reveal Myself To You In Terrible Ways

Most of these blog entries will be a record of self-loathing or depression.

Friday, July 31, 2015

Fool's Paradise

Stayed up too late again. Didn't do anything good for myself: no wash, no dry cleaning, no exercise, no good food, no cleaning if my room. I spent some nice time with LH and sent my brother some housing leads, but other than that I wasted my time watching TV, blanking my brain.

Saturday morning I'm supposed to do something early with Nurse Friend. The dry cleaner is closed on Sunday. I think I'm wearing hole-y underwear tomorrow. I really need to stay on task as well as update my wardrobe. There are more than one pair of boxers with holes in the bottom. 

I got nothing done that's on my list of to-dos on the goal-setting calendar. I also worked out that I can't spare any of the money that I want to give away, or spend frivolously, or use to buy or mail gifts. I really gotta work on budgeting. My brother pointed out I could save a ton of money if I bought and cut my own fruit. That would go for the sandwiches as well. (Meanwhile, #2 hurts more and more; I've really got to get to the dentist. The bosses are out the next two weeks, so I'm hoping maybe then.)

I've got to work on my finances. I've got to work on my room. I've got to work on my health. I've got to work on doing better at my job. And of course I've got to get some more sleep, like I should be doing now.

Wednesday, July 29, 2015

When The Chart Trends Up

Today didn't start off on the best note, but it got better.

I missed the bus.
I was extremely sweaty when I got to work and afraid people would show up before I was able to change.
Turns out I beat everyone in, but I was still nervous, and felt awkward in only my t-shirt as I tried to let my dress shirt dry off.
Then I just couldn't focus and spent a lot of the morning reading plane horror stories on Jezebel. 

Eventually I was sent on an errand downtown, which was a bit nerve-wracking but turned out fine. It got me out of the office and alone, driving, which I enjoy.

When I got back to the office there was instantly another trip to take, so I went back out.

I stayed until 7 because I felt like I worked so little (and until 1-1:30 I hadn't really done my basic duties). I got a little bit of work done then, but not as much as I would have liked. Had a conversation with my boss about an opportunity we should have been responding to, but I never heard back from him and I don't know what to do about that. ("Well, you should have a meeting every other day," says the Nice Rational Voice. I fucking hate it when he's right.) Gotta keep working on my agency. And gotta catch up on this other project tomorrow. I delayed and that's fucked up, too. I'm going to betray myself to my new coworker that I'm lousy at working and meeting deadlines and all of that.

I should go to sleep now.
Think I'll go in Facebook first.

Not Altogether

It was when I was going back up to get my belt (which I just realized I had forgotten to put on) that I decided to give up. The margin for error was already too small; there was no way I was going to make it now. The schoolbus which usually pulls into the neighborhood as I'm running out was already passing my house, meaning it had stopped, picked up its passenger, and then continued. There was no way I was going to make the bus.

This is disappointing considering just yesterday I had made it to my stop fully dressed, shirt tucked in, everything arranged. For the past couple of weeks I've been getting out there with my shirt untucked or half-buttoned, looking like I just woke up. I suppose it's very "Dagwood" of me, but it just feels unprofessional and sloppy. But that's what I get for wanting to write in the morning before I leave, because that's how I most often lose track of time.

I've also got to clean out my second bag. My first bag is my computer bag, a shoulder bag. In addition, I carry a heavy paper bag from a store filled with papers of all kinds and the t-shirt I'll change into when I get to work. When I went to dogsit, I filled it with extra stuff to take - and to bring home. I need to go through it and sort that stuff out, but I guess I don't wanna.

The biggest worry now is that it will rip apart. I took my book out of it the other day because it had poked through in two places; I ripped the bag a little more taking it out (I was at the bus stop at the time, so I wasn't being methodical or taking everything on top of it out first) and now it's got two significant holes in it halfway down. It's a sturdy bag, but who know how long it can last at this rate. I should look around and see if I have any other sturdy paper bags. Or start carrying it in my shoulder bag. 

Or I could use one of the ubiquitous grocery bags - not the plastic ones, which are still ubiquitous in this state because they don't charge for them, but the other, store-branded bags that cropped up when plastic bags where determined to be an evil. I've got a bunch of time filled with different crap I could get rid of, and I should. And that bag would be sturdy enough to haul around ten pound dumbbells.

Today might be a driving day. The boss needs a visa of some kind, so I'm going to be sent with the paperwork for that, and then we're hoping to get a document printed by the end of today, so I'll be sent for that. Could be nice, although the visa part could be nerve-wracking. I have to remember my role in these things: I am the courier. In the end, it is his responsibility to know what he needs to submit. I shouldn't worry; he's better with details than I am. That comes up I work too often, unfortunately. I skim, he reads.

Okay, I should go now. I should be on time for this bus.

Burgundy Is The Color of Kings

On the plus side, I didn't get a headache last night and so didn't take any ibuprofen.

On the minus side, I went to sleep after midnight and didn't feel like I had slept very well by the time I had to wake up.

I suppose now I'm okay. It was during the "snooze hour" that I felt like I hadn't slept enough, but that's always that way.

In putting a new roll of toilet paper on top of the tank as the back-up roll, I knocked over the screen containing the pieces of my tooth. The biggest piece was easiest to find but the other two might as well be cookie crumbs - and my bathroom floor is a dusty mess.

On the upside of bathroom cleaning, last night I cleaned off a particularly disgusting spot in the shower, which gives me hope that the whole thing can be cleaned fairly easy. The last place I lived I don't think I cleaned the shower the entire time I lived there. When I tried to do it before I left, the stains wouldn't come off.

Speaking of that tooth, I don't know why I was keeping it that way. I think because maybe I was thinking of taking a picture of it to post on here. Usually, though, I would find some other kind of container - it used to be a film canister - and put the pieces in there.

Tuesday, July 28, 2015

My Weird Version of a Country Song

Here I am
Up to late again
Here i am
Taking trash to bed again

Damn it. The lyrics were right as I came upstairs and then I forgot them. Maybe the fourth line is just "Bring trash to bed."

I was reflecting on my obsessive need to recycle which requires I bring all my trash up to my room: the two microwave dinner trays, the boxes they came in, the plastic cup I was drinking out of and the Pepsi bottle I emptied.

Spoiler Alert

I've been watching Dexter for the past two nights, and it annoys me. It annoys me because it's inconsistent. The reason we like the character is because he has traits we like - a sense of humor, he plays with kids - and from what he says, those traits aren't real, so they don't make any sense. The joy he takes in treating and entertaining the kids is the one that I don't understand. What does he get out of it? He can't feel anything, so why do it? Why aren't the kids as alien to him as sex and emotion?

I watched the first two episodes of The Walking Dead when they were on this weekend, and I found a fatal flaw there, too. The main character wakes up from a coma (I originally wrote "wakes up in a coma" - snort!) and walks out of a hospital. It's unclear how long the place has been empty, but it seems like a little while. I missed pieces of the show because I was flipping around so maybe they said, but based on how much has happened it seems like it must have been at least a month.

So how come he didn't die?

He would have had no food or water. He was in a fucking coma, so he couldn't feed himself. That means that when someone stopped coming to change his IV solution, he would have fucking dried up.

And here's a little something no one wants to talk about: shit.

You gotta shit and piss, even when you're in a coma, so how come he's not covered in piss and waking up in his own filth? Fucking Hollywood magic, that's how.

And yes, by the way, I know this is all too intense and too nitpicky and ruins the premise of the show (or at least a part of it) and the show's not really about that. But it struck me as I was watching the beginning and it gnawed at me. Sorry. It's not really important in the scheme of things and I was able to enjoy the show for what it was - until he got to Atlanta. 

Two things. 
1. Did he close the hatch behind him when he crawled up into the tank? Because I don't remember him doing that and I kept waiting for one of the ones that started to crawl under the tank to find the hole and crawl in.
2. How come he didn't get scratched? They were fucking surrounding him, and he took a long ass time to get under the tank. All that had to happen was someone reached out and got a bit of his arm, a bit of his leg. I think he was even wearing short sleeves. It's rediculous that he didn't get scratched. It's unbelievable. So I had a hard time believing it.

I look forward to watching more Dexter tomorrow, and maybe I'll watch some more episodes of WD if they're on for free (which I somehow doubt, now that they're showing marathons again).

Okay, I need to sleep now. Might not, but I need to. Don't wanna write no more.

Monday, July 27, 2015

This Is How The Sentence Ends

"....and then I just didn't."

I was folding up my old, pit-stained t-shirts (and was reminded of my photo idea; I really wanna do it; if there's one thing I like to do its capitalize on my disgusting behavior) when I thought of a plan I came up with some months ago.

I had probably been folding my t-shirts, like tonight, and some of them were quirky shirts I got from the online store Threadless, and I thought to myself: "You know what? Buying a bunch of their shirts is expensive" (what I'd always done before); "but buying one shirt at a time isn't bad at all!" So I put a reminder in my iPad to buy one shirt a week.

And then I just didn't.

It's like how I planned on mailing all these clothes and toys to my nieces and nephews and they're still cluttering up my room (instead of the living room). It's like how I was going to mail my sister a card or letter or comic strip once a week or once a month, to keep connected. It's like how I was going to done to charity every week. It's like how I was going to read those old newspapers and write entries about them, how I was going to go back and finish the entries I'd opened or started but never finished.

But I didn't. But I didn't. But I didn't. 

And now my bed is a mess, and my room is a mess, and my life is a mess, because I can't follow through and get shit done.

Oh, well. There's always tomorrow.

Money Up, Money Down

The dog owner gave me $500 for watching the dog. I only took $300; I didn't feel like I deserved that much.

So now I have an extra $300 in my pocket. What does that mean?

Well, on the one hand, I've been buying a lot of Chipotle lunches this past week, so that probably brought down my finances some (although at $9, it's not actually more expensive than 7-11)(except 7-11 is breakfast and lunch and a snack), but on the other hand, I can also try out my financial "experiment" of getting a gift card and putting all my food expenses on that (and maybe buying a game or two or some music). 

Although it occurs to me now that I could also just put it in my second bank account (part of which I meant to anyway) and pay for food with that card (although that means no music and/or games). 

Then there's the fact that they overpaid me at work and now they're deducting those monies from my pay check for the next month. Then there's the fact that I feel like I should chip in an extra $50 for the air conditioning and water at the house. 

Then there's the final fact, which is that while at the dog owner's, I closed his couch-bed on my glasses and bent the frames, meaning they no longer close up right, and I should probably get a new pair of glasses. My brother got me that Warby Parker gift card for Christmas and it's just sitting in my bureau because I don't know how to deal with it.

With $200, I could buy the glasses outright myself, at any random glasses place. I can't remember what I paid for these, whether I got two pair for $200 or what. I feel like I might have paid a little more than I normally would, 'cause I still had money.

Glancing around the room I see all the stuff I mean to mail to my brothers and I think: "I could spend it on that, too." 

I gotta go to work. They're supposed to be taking pictures at work today, for the website. They said wear solid colors; the only two solid-color shirts I have (that are clean) are kind of crummy, and one of them's way too hot to wear to work. Speaking of which, I need to check the weather. Bye.

Sunday, July 26, 2015

Little Things Are Off

I got home around 1:30 today and parked myself in front of the television. I should have gone for a walk, taken a shower, and maybe gone to the post office.

I got a headache around 5:30; who knows if it was eye strain, poor posture, stress from hunching up watching TV shows, dehydration or infected teeth. I took something for it, ordered some food and felt better later. 

Things don't feel right at home. LH didn't say anything to me all day until she asked me if something was going on (in the world) because the two nearest gas stations were both out of order. I wondered if it was some kind of hack but there was nothing in the news for my desultory search.

The air conditioning doesn't seem as good. When I came home, it wasn't even on and the house was pretty warm. When I turned it on, it didn't seem to work and I wondered if maybe it was off because it was broken (nightmare scenario). Eventually it got cooler, but never as cool as I remember, and especially not in my room, where I am now. 

I need to do wash.

The dog's owner came home last night and did two things that I didn't expect - well, one that I didn't expect and one that I didn't think about. The first thing was that he turned the AC down to 68 or maybe even 65 (I was trying to read it from across the room); I had left it on 74 the whole time, since that was the temperature he left it on. I could have been a lot more comfortable had I cranked it down certain days or nights.

The second was that he didn't walk the dog for almost twelve hours. 

He walked the dog at around 11 or midnight last night and then didn't drag himself out of bed until after ten today and didn't take the dog out until 11 or later. I feel like he's shitty with the dog. I don't get a dog because I'm lousy at taking care of someone else, and I feel kind of offended and angry that he does have a dog and doesn't treat him very well (from my vantage point). 

Ah, what do I know. Gotta go to bed and get up early tomorrow and begin again. Always begin again.

Saturday, July 25, 2015

Timing Is A Bit Early

I went to sleep on the couch last night.

Well, no, that's not right. I thought about it and then just went to bed. I figured the dog would wake me up at midnight or so and we'd go for a walk then. He didn't, and I woke up at dawn. We went for a walk at 5:15 am and there was no one on the street. We walked for maybe a half hour as the light got stronger and the streetlights clicked off. It was quiet and peaceful and you wouldn't even think we were in one of the busiest parts of a major city. Now I've been up for three hours and it isn't even 8am. It's weird.

The Same But Different

Watching Christian music videos (or listening to Christian rock radio) is like being in a foreign country: the music is similar - there's still pop and rap and rock and heavy metal - but you don't recognize any of it; you don't know the bands or the songs, even though they look similar to bands you know - except there's a lot more middle-aged people.

Update: There was just a video by "Json featuring Jai" that made me think that, at the least, one of the things that Christian music does that's kind of admirable is talking about human weakness and self-doubt. I guess I'd have to go through the past couple of years of pop music to see if there are parallels, but my feeling is there's one song every three or four years that comes out that's similar - Christina Aguilera's "Beautiful" came to mind when the video was on, because I have some kind of memory of people writing their insecurities on a mirror in that video, which they did in this video. Funnily enough, the other song I thought of was something she sang on, the song called "Hold On" or something; it was a song I really liked, that touched a chord in me, but the TV's on and I can't think straight.

Thursday, July 23, 2015

The Cure Seems To Make Things Worse

Number 29 has started to really hurt. Or maybe it's number 28. In any case, a tooth that was giving me no trouble three weeks ago now feels like the root might be coming exposed. And it hurts. Like a bitch.

The title goes to the fact that: "I go to the dentist, and then everything goes wrong!" It's not accurate, it's just what it feels like. Plus it's another thousand dollars I don't have. 

I wonder if I've been doing something different lately. Ever since I tore out that piece of 14, my jaw hasn't felt right and I feel like it's sore from clamping wrong. (Of course, maybe I'm clenching my teeth worse this week - that's one of the other things the dentist mentioned.)

I was thinking about implant technology the other day and trying to spin up my own solutions. I was thinking "If they're going to graft on a bone anyway, why not graft it on with the tooth stuck in it??" This makes sense until you think about how much that exposes the graft to going wrong: bumping or putting pressure on the tooth in anyway could cause the graft to fail.

"Okay, so a whole tooth is out. What about putting half a tooth there?" 
Okay, but why would you do that? How would that help you get back to a full tooth?
"Oh, damn, you're right."
"Okay: what about if you fixed a base to the graft that you could put the post into?"
Yeah, it still doesn't make sense. Essentially, the way the process is now makes the best sense for what the body needs and how it works.

I'm super bummed I'm going to lose another tooth (in that it will become a crown, and so far I don't have a great track record with those). I really need to figure out my money situation so I can do it soon, though. And then I need to get ready to drink all my meals, 'cause I ain't gon' have shit for teeth soon.

Financial Planning

I was thinking the other day of trying something different this month in terms of my finances - or at least the money I treat as "loose" or spend without thinking about it. 

I was thinking I should put $100 on my Metro card and $100 on a temporary Visa card and use the later for buying my breakfast every day and see how fast it runs out. (Will it be a week? Will it be less than a week?) In truth, I should put $200 on it because - theoretically - that's how much I'm "budgeting" (or guessing roughly) that I spend on that in a week. Lately it feels like it's been more because I've been spending more than $10 every morning. Gotta stop that.

I'm actually going to be a little tight money wise this month - or maybe for the next two weeks; I don't know if I'm going to catch up a little on my student loan or whether I've spent myself too far down. Or maybe I just have to take the money out of "savings." Which reminds me, I should set up my automatic 401k. Not seeing the deductions is the best thing for me.

Inspired By Life In The Street

Just took the dog for a walk, and as we were paused for him to take a piss, a guy came walking toward us. I held the dog away as he passed and then, surprising me, he turned into a house just a few doors down. 

He hadn't looked at me when he passed (I don't speak unless acknowledged), and so I read him as unhappy, and he's coming home at 12:30 in the morning and I instantly put together a story - and then a Craigslist ad:

"Are you married but don't want to go home? Let's go to a movie. Or dinner. Or something. Male or female, doesn't matter. I'm not in this for sex or romance, just company that wants to be out of the house and can help me be out of the house."

-
In the Small Victory column, I did laundry here tonight. I don't like using unfamiliar machines, and had they been in the basement I probably wouldn't have used them as all. Bad enough his stuff was still in the dryer and I had to find somewhere for it while I was drying my clothes. (His place is somewhat like mine in that every inch of flat surface is covered with something.) 

Under the Life Event heading (well, not really; that seems too grand for this), the doctor called and cancelled our appointment because there was no point since I'd passed the stone and there were no others in my system. He recommended an X-ray once every other year to check. 

Under the Financial History column, I called one of my credit cards to get it re-activated and found out that's impossible, it's been permanently cut off. I'm confused as to why that is; I have another card with them that probably has just as poor history and they just sent me a new card for it. (Maybe it's because that was an HSBC card that got transferred over in the acquisition. Still, if the credit histories are equally bad, it shouldn't matter.)

The main reason it's a problem is because I was going to use it to pay my dentist bill and now I don't have that option. I would have $500 of credit on that card if it could be brought online. 
Oh well. I suppose that's just more reason to get in touch with the company holding the largest amount of stock and cash that I have and make sure everything is in order there. I don't know if mail from them is going to my old address or what. I realized the other day that one of my stock mailings was printed with my father's address; I'm not even sure how it reached me (unless my sister in law filled out a change of address for me). 

Should go to bed. Still not sleeping well. Still tons to do at work I'm not doing. Glad the weather will be nice tomorrow.

Ad Report: Scion

Have you seen the Scion "Über" ad? Is it just me, or does it seem much more like a gay dating ad than a car ad? The first time I saw it, I didn't know what the fuck it was for. I missed the very beginning and thought the guy on the curb recognized the driver, like he was someone from NASCAR or something. Then when I saw the commercial the whole way through, I was just like: "What? What the fuck was that?"
The guy isn't going to that party so that he and the driver guy can go somewhere and fuck. There's something about their looks and energy that's just gay all over the place; I don't know what it is. I just know they don't seem like "macho car guys," unless you're some girl from the Midwest who's never met anyone gay and at this point I'm not sure even that is possible. Maybe a Mormon, but what would they be doing watching TV? (Or secular TV, anyway.)