One of my pet peeves when I am in my house (or one I am intimate with), is when someone comments on me fixing a picture frame, or tidying something that’s not directly in the way. It just feels good to do it, that’s all. It’s not a matter of dread, or obsession. It’s just
Sunday, we went to the store. Jenny got me to go by agreeing that I could have donuts, which is often the only way to get my out of the house. Just kidding. I mean, I did get donuts, shame on me. But I do leave the house for other things. Sometimes. God Dammit. What was
My memory is getting worse, but I’m not sure what to do for that. More talks with my doctors, therapist, and Jenny. More adjustments. Possibly more meds, possibly fewer meds. It’s inconvenient, but it’s helping me get into some great habits. Cons: Jenny has to remind me of stuff. All day long. It’s frustrating for
I throw a couple of words around a lot on this blog. My Father, and my Dad. They are two different people. Two very different people. My Father and I shared a name until after his death several years ago. My Dad, however, is a dear man whom I have known for over a
Seriously guys, chocolate is magic. With this oily crud, I can convince all kinds of people to like me. Problem at work? No problem, address it head-on, by taking a basket of chocolate to the HR manager, and bring my complaint up during conversation. She knows it’s a bribe, but she doesn’t give two shits. I don’t like
Sometimes I got out, and it’s the most amazing thing in the world. Other times, someone invites me over, and I say yes. Then the plan changes a little. Then it changes a little more. Somehow, agreeing to go to their house for quiet dinner becomes helping them host a party. Not a good way
Today, I leave behind one of my greatest anxieties. For some irrational reason, I’ve been afraid to turn 27 for years. As of this morning, that anxiety can pass. I’m 28, and I don’t have to worry about it anymore. In case you don’t know about the 27 Club, I’ll drop some sweet knowledge on
I do this thing when I’m bored, or a bird flies by, or someone clicks on their mouse a bunch of times, or… I just did it with my own post. I get bored, my mind drifts, and then I’m shocked into this moment of, “WTF just happened?!” It’d by okay if I were even
I’ve long since learned, and try to live by a simple rule. When in pain, grief, fear, or frailty, there are only a couple of rules for being a good human. I call it the Dumping Circles Rule. When someone has died, for example, there is an order of who gets to dump sadness on whom.
I thought it was supposed to feel like it isn’t real. I hear people say that it doesn’t feel real to them when someone dies… I don’t get it. I wake up several times a night, with no idea why I’m upset. The it hits me: George is dead. I return to restless sleep. I
