Go to content Go to navigation Go to search

Working for a living


My youngest son, Skippy, turned 10 yesterday. I am now ten years older than I was when he was born. I feel every minute. In case you haven't noticed, I've been miserable. I've really been trying hard not to be, there's no real good reason for me to be, but I am. Chemicals? Maybe. Health? Probably. I am fat as shit and sore as hell. (Because I am fat as shit. It's a vicious cycle.) I have been trying all the regular crap that people say to try when you're in a rut. I got a hobby, an old British sports car. I can't make it run. I started exercising. I am too busy to make it stick. Diet. Are you fucking kidding? New job. Trading old problems for new problems. Besides, thanks to the complete bunch of assholes running the country, our money ain't worth shit. As of this writing, the Canadian dollar is worth a dollar and ten cents American. What the hell are we thinking. We are now Canada's Canada, only with guns and less polite. So maybe we're Canada's Mexico. Whatever, I'm not even trying any more.
Bookmark and Share

Happy happy


I have (yet again) made the decision to become a happy person. It is not going to be easy, there's a lot going against me, but I will do it. This time I'll go with a "fake it 'till you make it" strategy. Since I obviously have some kind of brain issue that periodically chucks my mood into an oubliette, I'll just make the best of it and pretend that it doesn't. I don't want drugs or anything (now) and I don't think I'm too late. I could be "happydad" if I try hard enough, right? I'll make the behavior a habit, I'm good at habits. I'm better at superstition, though. Maybe I can make my behavior change some kind of good luck charm, like wearing my wedding ring on an airplane. I started doing that because I wanted them to be able to identify my body, but so far it's worked out pretty well as a good luck charm. Since nobody's had to. Identify my body. We'll see if I can make the effort. I want to, but damn if it isn't like February in here. "Here" would be my brain, which has temporarily stopped talking to me, as it does periodically. Arrgh. I mean, HA! HA!
Bookmark and Share