My next weight loss appointment is one week from today. I’m conflicted emotionally.
On the one hand I can’t wait to get over the next hurdle and be one step closer to the finish line.
On the other hand, I’m scared shitless. I’m going to be meeting with the doctor who is going to carve up my innards. I mean, it’s terrifying!
So far the drive to move forward is stronger than the fear. I need to keep it that way. For the rest of my life.
One week.
I failed to get out of bed early enough to go out for some car music today. It’s been a while. I need to keep on this. I want the re-recordings done before RPM starts on February 1st. Get on it, fat boy!
My hair is so long that it keeps covering my glasses. When I am wearing my sit-at-the-computer glasses and I have to look somewhere else, I try to look over the top of my glasses. I can’t do that today because there is 20 pounds of hair sitting there. I keep thinking my glasses are dirty because there’s smutz on them. The smutz, as you can probably guess, is actually my hair. If I don’t get my hair cut tomorrow I am going to lose my shit. At the same time, I really don’t want to get my hair cut tomorrow because I really don’t want Covid. Damn it!
Yesterday was Dr Martin Luther King, Jr day in the USA. Was it also a holiday in the UK? Why is the That Pedal Show live show happening today instead of yesterday?
I just did something I haven’t done in ages. Instead of chasing my lunch with some junk food, I had some fruit. I am sharing that information not because it’s interesting to you, my loyal and much loved readers, but because if I happen to look back at this a few days or weeks or years from now I want to know that on at least one day I did at least one thing right. I am encouraging/guilting my hypothetical future self.
My step son is taking a jazz piano course. Just a one credit thing. He had his first lesson today. He’s very excited. He said he popped a 9th on top of a Dominat 7 chord. Yes. Next stop, Chick Effin’ Corea babie!
Right, back to work.
Imminent… did I spell that right? I think so. It’s one of those words, you know? One of those words that I am never quite sure how to spell.
What was I talking about? Oh yeah, the panic is imminent.
Tomorrow is Tuesday. After that… Wednesday. That’s when the panic will come full force. Wednesday morning. At Lowell General Hospital. It’s not even an appointment, it’s just handing in some paperwork and having my vitals recorded. The actual first appointment is February 3rd via Zoom. Wednesday though… that’s the next step. I have to get through that before I can do anything else.
Weight loss surgery. I am in a state of mild freak out right now. It will be a major league freak out tomorrow. Wednesday morning… full blown panic. I can practically smell it.
I’m doing it this time. No more wussing out like the last time. No more giving in to fear. No more worrying about what I won’t be able to do anymore once it’s done. The only worry worth worrying about is what happens if I don’t do it.
It’s the right thing to do, but I am still going to panic over every little detail, including dropping off the medical history forms on Wednesday.
Fuck. I don’t know if I am ready for this.
Fuck. I have to get myself ready for this.
Fuck.
Yesterday we got good news on one important topic and not bad but not great news on another. We should be okay for today, right? No disasters looming in the immediate future?
Then why do I feel like there is a bomb ready to go off? I have a really bad feeling about today. And tomorrow. And Thursday and Friday too. This weekend is a Harry weekend. The last one before he leaves for college. I need to get there in one piece. We’re going to watch The Suicide Squad together. He’s already seen it twice. I don’t want to watch it without him.
I really need this weekend to be here. I really need what ever it is I am irrationally afraid is going to happen before then to be nice to me and not happen.
Ugh.
I’m here at my parents house again. Mom is here. Dad is here. I am here. Everything has been okay since dad came home on Tuesday, but I’m sitting here patiently waiting for the other shoe to drop. Or, I’m waiting for the hammer to fall. However you want to put it.
HBO Max has released The Suicide Squad today. Tonight, actually. I think they brought it live at 7:00pm. The reviews are good. The first movie was… eh. Nothing special. This one was made by the same guy who made Guardians of the Galaxy so maybe some of the magic will rub off?
18 minutes until meds distribution.
Jen and Harry are out college supply shopping. Jen is worried about Covid. We’re all worried about Covid, but she and Harry are both vaccinated. Frankly, all the non-vaccinated people can suck it. Take the friggin’ vaccine, you selfish pricks.
What was I talking about?
Oh well, I think I’ll go make sure all of the door alarms are set and get them their pills. Dad needs a snack with his.
Right then, I’ll talk to you later. There might be a new song to share. We’ll see where the night leads us.
I miss Jen and Harry and Bellana and Patches and I want to go home.
Last night at the parental abode was okay. She was asleep before 9:00pm and didn’t wake up until a little before 5:00am. I didn’t go to sleep until crazy late. It’s just so damn hard to let my guard down. I woke up when she got out of bed but I was able to fall asleep for another hour or so. I failed to hit the five hour mark in total, but what I got was probably okay.
Normally when I get up for the day I switch the alarm on the front door to chime mode so I can open the door during the work day without setting off the end of the world level cacophony. Now that I know she’s bolted twice this week I don’t think I can do that. I have to remember to switch the alarm off when I open the door for the regular 9-10am delivery. If I forget… that’s going to suck.
I did manage to close my three activity rings yesterday. That’s good. Two days down, infinity to go. It’s going to be tough to do it today. The only place I can do it without feeling like the house is going to collapse is the cellar, and I can’t really sneak off to the cellar while working/nana sitting.
My father is coming home today. I’m scared shitless. I can’t even believe how scared shitless I am. Why am I not happy? He’s coming home, I should be happy.
We got some good news about my father’s condition today. I should be happy. I should be thrilled. I am, partly, but I’m also scared out of my gourd. The good news involves coming home from the hospital for a couple of days before going back to the hospital again for major surgery. We thought he would be staying in until the surgery and the post-op recovery were complete.
He’s good enough to come home early. Yes! He’s still going back next week. No!
My emotional state feels like scrambled eggs look.
Last weekend I was sitting outside of the room Harry’s band was rehearsing in and noodling around with GarageBand on my phone. Next thing I know there is a rough idea for a song. Think Jimi Hendrix meets My Bloody Valentine except not even remotely as good as either. You get the idea.
I’m not working on a writing project right now, and the recording project I set for myself has stalled. What should I do with this idea? Should I maybe just start another writing project? Should I just let it sit like I usually do with orphaned song ideas?
No… something different this time. Today I recorded bass and rhythm guitar parts, replaced my cheesy iOS drums, and made a quick mix. I uploaded the still unfinished song to soundcloud and then did something I’ve never done with any song I’ve worked on since I started writing for myself at home back in 2007.
I let someone else listen to it.
I just Facebook messaged the soundcloud (I hate them so) link to the band and asked if they had any interest in playing it. I think I’m going to be afraid to check Facebook for the rest of the day. Maybe I’ll go outside and rake for a while.
Having no self confidence sucks sometimes. At least I worked up the courage to send the link. Call that a personal win.
This could be bad, Apple-y speaking.
My step son’s Mac won’t boot up. It’s getting a core dump on the screen with some debugger information when he turns it on. We haven’t had time to really investigate or troubleshoot but… ouch.
I also just started installing an update to Garageband.
The last time that happened it totally ruined my day.
Duck and cover, kids.
I can’t help being from Boston. I can’t help being a Boston sports fan. It’s just the way I am. I was born this way, you know?
Game six starts in a touch more than six hours and damn it if I ain’t terrified. I was too young to know what was happening in 1975. I know I watched the Bucky Bleeping Dent game in ’78, but it wasn’t until a year later that I was fully engrossed in what would be a lifetime of baseball fandom.
I remember 1986, although I wasn’t watching when it fell apart in game six. I couldn’t quite get why everyone was just assuming that game seven was lost even before it started, even though deep down I felt the same way. I watched the start of the game. I got excited when the Sox took the lead against the Mets. Still, I wasn’t surprised when the Mets came back and won the game. I didn’t see the end. I was 15 and had to go to school the next day. I remember the pain though. I clearly do.
Back in 2004 there were questions being asked. Even after the Red Sox won their first World Series title in 86 years, there were still questions. Would it ever be the same? Now that the eons of suffering were over, would we ever really feel the same way about baseball? The answer is no. Think about it. If you are a Red Sox fan, is there anything about the 2007 World Series that sticks out in your mind? I remember those idiotic Tacoby commercials, but that’s about it. 2004? Even thought he World Series paled in comparison to the ALCS win against the Yankees, I still can clearly see Suppan rounding third. I can still clearly see Wakefield and Schilling and Lowe on the mound. (not Pedro Martinez though. I wonder why?) So would it ever be the same? No. Not really. Two championships in four years removed all of the pain and suffering we’d gone through over the previous 86 years.
Then we got to 2011 and all of that crap came flooding back. The September collapse was a harsh reminder of our not so distant past. When we lost on the last game of the season, and then listened to the end of the Yankees game as they blew a huge lead and we lost our post season spot, it was devastating. It shouldn’t have been. 2004 cured us, didn’t it? Not completely, I guess. There was the same 1,000 yard stare we’d felt in 2003, and 1999, and 1995, and 1990, and 1988, and 1986, and 1978, and 1975, and 1967, and so on, and so on. Last season’s last place finish was just salt in the wound. It just hammered home that Boston was once again a place where we felt the pain of defeat. I don’t want to say we feel it more than other places, but somehow it’s not hard to believe that the sting is at least different here. I know Chicago is dealing with a much longer string of futility, but as was the case during our 86 years, we can always argue that it was worse for us because we consistently came close where the Cubs pretty much always blew.
I’m getting off topic. I’m afraid of tonight’s game. The Cardinals are an awesome baseball team. So are the Red Sox, but we can’t just assume victory is ours. Overconfidence is a killer in a game like this, and if we need a game seven tomorrow then another epic collapse is right on the door step.
The absolutely positively without questions MUST win tonight’s game. I’m going to be chewing my nails and shivering with fear and hiding my head every time anything happens. Even if we jump out to an 86 run first inning lead, I am still going to be on the verge of panic right up until the moment it ends in our favor.
Despite 2004 and 2007, I am still far too accustomed to disappointment at the hands of the Red Sox to ever truly feel confident. Please don’t let us down again, Red Sox. Win tonight.
Go Red Sox!
Inside the Red Head's Head 