Age Before Beauty

It was around 3-4 weeks ago that I had a mishap at home that resulted in me breaking three ribs. Very, very painful… second worst pain I’ve ever felt after kidney stones. However, I’ve been taking it easy… following doctors orders (for the most part) by not lifting anything or being too aggressive in activity using my torso for stuff. Bottom line; I’m healing up.

I drove into work yesterday morning and arrived at the same time as James, a 71 year old fella who works in my department. It snowed overnight and no one has shovelled the stairs and concrete pad yet.

As I’m walking up, James busts out the snow shovel from just inside the door and starts shovelling his ass off.

Now, I can’t walk past and let a 71 year old man clear snow from the whole works by himself when I’m a solid 39 years of age. So I grabbed a second shovel and cleared the majority of the area so that he wouldn’t have to do much. However, with my ribs in this state… I’m paying for it now. Hello Advil and beer. I’d do the Tylenol 3’s but I can make do otherwise. I think.

Alas, I Am Alone

For some reason, it feels more intimate to write a post on my phone than it does on my laptop. When I sit down at my laptop to write now, I feel like I need to write some kind of an epic post. Something either smart or funny or insightful… but not something sort of informal and off-the-cuff.

Stupid, I know.

I have a bizarre relationship with the written word write now when combined with public access and my own honesty. I got burned, so… once bitten, twice shy. And the bite changed me forever and stole something that I used to love so much. The ability to openly write without fear of repercussion.

Embrace The Suck

So I know that I need to update this more frequently. I have things that I can share. And share I will.

I put in an application for a new job this afternoon. I’m excited about it because it isn’t the chaos and insanity of my current job. I don’t mind my job; often my job is very interesting. However, I’ve grown to hate our client and that is probably not the best feeling to have when you ONLY have one client. And it is taking a personal toll, so I think I need to move on.

Can I put in an online application for a new spouse somewhere? Because I think I need one of those too. YEAH, DIVORCE MOTHERFUCKER!!

In other news, I’m sick of having to trim my nails. I’m not saying that I want to grow my nails long to defy gender stereotypes… I like having short nails. I just hate having to do the upkeep to keep them short. Constantly, I have to clip all ten of my fingers and all ten of my toes and it is a pain in the ass. (Now, I just re-read that and I think I may be admitting I’m super lazy. I’m not sure.) Maybe part of that pain in the ass that bothers me most is the hunt to find the goddamn nail clippers. Maybe.

Back to work for a second; I have to work tomorrow morning… pull some overtime. And I’m going to end up missing Man U beating the shit out of Swansea… kick off at 8:00am local time. And Arsenal kicking the shit out of Crystal Palace… at 8:00am again. And Chelsea pumping Burnley like they were the prom queen in the back seat of a rusted-out Trans Am. Just at 8:00am and in England. With bad teeth. And maybe in the ass.



All we want is a headrush
All we want is to get out of our skin for a while
We have nothing to lose because we don’t have anything
Anything we want anyway…
We used to hate people
Now we just make fun of them
It’s more effective that way
We don’t live
We just scratch on day to day
With nothing but matchbooks and sarcasm in our pockets
And all we are waiting for is for something worth waiting for
Let’s admit America gets the celebrities we deserve
Let’s stop saying “Don’t quote me” because if no one quotes you
You probably haven’t said a thing worth saying
We need something to kill the pain of all that nothing inside
We all just want to die a little bit
We fear that pop-culture is the only culture we’re ever going to have
We want to stop reading magazines
Stop watching T.V.
Stop caring about Hollywood
But we’re addicted to the things we hate
We don’t run Washington and no one really does
Ask not what you can do for your country
Ask what your country did to you
The only reason you’re still alive is because someone
Has decided to let you live
We owe so much money we’re not broke we’re broken
We’re so poor we can’t even pay attention
So what do you want?
You want to be famous and rich and happy
But you’re terrified you have nothing to offer this world
Nothing to say and no way to say it
But you can say it in three languages
You are more than the sum of what you consume
Desire is not an occupation
You are alternately thrilled and desperate
Skyhigh and fucked
Let’s stop praying for someone to save us and start saving ourselves
Let’s stop this and start over
Let’s go out – let’s keep going
This is your life – this is your fucking life
We need something to kill the pain of all that nothing inside
Quit whining you haven’t done anything wrong because frankly
You haven’t done much of anything

Someone’s writing down your mistakes

Someone’s documenting your downfall