Today is my parents’ 55th wedding anniversary. On this day in the summer of love, 1967, those two crazy kids got hitched. They are not currently living in the same facility. Dad is in an assisted living place in Billerica and Mom is in a nursing facility in Andover. It’s devastating. Any time I visit Mom I try to call Dad so they can connect a little, but my Mother mostly doesn’t get what’s going on and it fails. Dad was insistent that he see her today, rightly so, and my brother is taking him. My brother saw Mom yesterday and it sounds like it was a pretty rough day for her. The fear is that the same thing will happen today and it will some how make things worse for both parents. When I try to pretend I am an optimist, I try to envision something in Mom’s head snapping into focus when she sees Dad. Fingers crossed. Really hoping something like that happens. Seriously.
Anyway, 55 years is a huge number. Do me a favor and take a second to wish my folks a happy anniversary. Maybe some happy vibes from the electronic universe will help them connect today. Wouldn’t that be great?
I have nothing to say right now. It’s felt like a long day, but it really hasn’t been. It’s one of those days.
I just had 2.9 ounces of tuna fish for lunch. Isn’t that special? I’m up to 59 grams of protein for the day. The goal is 60 grams and I still have dinner to go. Sweet. I am feeling like I am on top of things today.
I want to play my guitar. I want the mental boost that I used to get from junk food to come from music, but there is so little time in the day. I want to play but I want to spend time with my family more. The band will help, but I don’t think I can try to get the band happening again until my parents are settled. I hope that will be soon, but who knows.
I’ve been having this thought go through my head about maybe starting a second band. I absolutely want Lizardfish to go on with the same four guys for the rest of time. I absolutely love playing in that band. It’s absurd how much fun it is. I was thinking of a second band that would play only original music, like we did back in the 90’s. I think I would like to do that, but I don’t think I would like to do the work to put it together, and I also don’t think I would like to be the only person contributing songs. So I doubt it will ever happen.
I thought that maybe I might want to start pretending to be a photographer again. I thought about sunrise pictures at the ocean. Could it happen this weekend? Probably not. The 10 day forecast calls for clouds for the next 10 days. There goes that idea. Maybe we could take a stroll through the Methuen Bird Sanctuary one of these weekends and see if we could catch a pic or two of some eagles. I don’t know.
It’s been almost a month since I played my guitar. It’s starting to effect my mental health.
At least I think it is. The lack of playing combined with the daily construction combined with the approaching surgery combined with the approaching lifetime of dietary and lifestyle changes that follow the surgery have all contributed to my current mental state. Given that information it’s hard to say if the guitar is all that big a part of the stressedness.
Between the weight loss stuff and work and the kitchen remodel and Covid and my mother being in the hospital, I am super stressed. I feel like a rubber band that’s stretched out as far as it can go.
I need to punch in to work at 9:00, go to 3-4 meetings until noon, then go sit with my mother. I am going to be balls to the wall all day until they kick me out of the hospital room. Then I’ll come home and see the latest in the kitchen. That will relax me a bit. The contractor could be finished today. The other contractor will be finished tomorrow. Then it’s time to get into the pre-fab stuff. The contractor/Covid/Stranger-in-my-house-during-a-global-pandemic stress will be gone, but the building and hanging kitchen stuff will replace it.
If I seem a little punch drunk over the next week or two, all that combined is why.
I haven’t started freaking out yet, but I expect I will shortly. Or maybe not. I don’t know.
My for really reals first weight loss surgery appointment is tomorrow morning. I took the first half of the day off so that I can freak out, go to the Zoom meeting, and then cry and freak out again. Like, my whole morning is scheduled.
Then again, maybe the fact that I haven’t freaked out yet is a sign that I am for really reals ready to do this. It’s going to suck, and it’s going to suck for months and months, but as far as my health is concerned it’s the right thing to do, right? Right.
I don’t know what to expect. It’s safe to assume I will have a million questions and when the Doc asks me if I have any questions I will completely blank out and not be able to think of anything. Safe bet that prediction is going to come true. We’ll see tomorrow though.
Not sure what the deal is tonight but I find myself feeling really low. I was fine a couple of hours ago but right now I’m feeling pretty shitty mental healthily speaking.
I can probably blame it on Covid. I can pretty much blame every unhappy feeling on the ‘Rona, but I’m not sure that’s good enough.
Is it the imminent arrival of yet another locked down holiday? Is it work stress? I had a project on my to-do list this morning that I really wanted to get through but I ended up being so busy with other stuff that I spent exactly zero seconds working on it.
Is it the weather? Is it the calendar? I guarantee it’s not the love of my life who is sleeping next to me as I type this useless shit. I do miss the kids, but that feeling is always with me and whatever is bothering me tonight is on top of that.
I don’t know. I’ll figure it out. Or I won’t. Think I’ll listen to some music for a few and then go to sleep.
Yesterday was Monday and somehow I was feeling optimistic about the state of the universe. Today is Tuesday and… sigh. Something about tomorrow being the start of December is messing me up today. I’m not sure exactly why, but it’s probably Covid-19 and holiday related. We’re not getting a normal Christmas for the second year in a row, which implies that our Covid Christmas is actually now the normal. Shit.
I had three projects to do at work in less than two weeks. I picked off one of them yesterday and was feeling pretty good about the state of things. Now, simply because it’s the next day, I am feeling a little defeatist about the remaining two. Why? Where is my rational brain hiding? Come out and play, brain. Pretty please?
I took the barrels out to the street this morning. The barrels are full to bursting, partly with Thanksgiving detritus, but they’ve spent the whole week in the new little shed thing so the squirrels weren’t able to get at them. 10 minutes after I took the barrels to the street I looked out the window and saw a squirrel sitting on the barrel snacking on some stuff. Sigh.
Okay. Time to punch in to work. Here’s hoping the state of the universe improves a little. Fingers crossed, folks.
It’s Thursday. Work days today and tomorrow and then tomorrow evening the kids come home for a week. Kick ass, dude.
The house is ready. Everything is clean and tidy and set for us to trick them into believing that I magically stopped being a slob over the last few months. I am sure this will fool ’em good.
We get them this weekend, then Dad gets them on Monday and Tuesday, then we get them on Wednesday and Thursday (Thanksgiving), then Dad gets them the weekend after Thanksgiving and then they go back to Vermont. We’ll be right back to the pre-college schedule as if nothing ever happened.
I fear I am going to be in a crummy mood today. I let shit get to me last night and I haven’t gotten past it yet. Rest assured, I am going to be as happy as the proverbial pig in shit come Friday evening. I am really excited to see both of them again.
Oh yeah, I have to move the office chair I was using in Harry’s room to the cellar. He has his own chair and doesn’t need two in his room. Don’t forget, you fat dumb ass loser piece of shit. Get ‘er done, as the saying goes.
Okay, it’s 8:53am so I am going to sign in to work. I have a meeting to go to and a potentially stressful issue from yesterday to get caught up on. Happy Thursday, ya maniacs!
Just another one of those days where the brain doesn’t want to function and something that feels like what the rumors say is the blues tries to take over. I have three things that are helping me claw my way back to life.
First, Jen. As always. As far as my mental state goes, I really don’t know what I would do without her.
Second, nowhere near as important as item number one, the Bruins are kicking the shit out of the Sharks right now. It’s 4-1 about halfway through the third period. Thanks, Bruins. I appreciate it.
Third, probably more important than number two, but still nowhere near as important as number one, I spent the last hour+ playing guitar. I put leads on the three songs that got vocals this morning, and then put rhythm guitars onto two more from the current batch of songs to re-record for the 2015 re-recording yadda yadda blah. My playing wasn’t great, but it was okay.
This has not been a tough day, but it has sort of been a tough day. I can’t explain it. I’m having a hard time wrapping my brain around stuff. I couldn’t get out of bed this morning, I couldn’t deal with the few morning chores I wanted to do. I took out the trash and found the critters had taken down one of the barrels and scattered crap all around. I just couldn’t come to terms with raking it all up and getting it back into a barrel. My brain just balked. Mentally speaking, I’ve been in that state pretty much all day. Is this the negative backlash of a four day weekend? Probably.
Example: The first thing I did this morning was put my CPAP mask onto the table next to the bed. It immediately fell off and in doing so knocked over the stand I keep my iPhone on as it charges over night. Clutz central, eh? That’s the way the whole day has felt.
Meetings Meetings Meetings. I just can’t get my feet onto the floor to hold myself up. Ugh! Speaking of meetings, why do instacart deliveries always happen when I’m on conference calls? Always. I have the worst luck with timing.
I really had something interesting to write about… I promise I did… I don’t know what happened to the idea though. It’s just gone. Poof, all gone. Maybe it will come back to me later, but until then you are left with this literary triumph.