I was awoken sometime around 8 this morning by the sound of someone being kind enough to park his car outside my window and blast some Mexican music. Sadly, he didn’t stick around for more than a couple of minutes, and so I drifted back to sleep for about an hour, at which point my phone rang.
My Caller ID doesn’t always like to display the information for the call before I answer, so as I saw that the call was from “No Data,” I assumed that it wasn’t actually anyone calling for me, but decided to answer it anyway.
It was, of course, a call for the pharmacy that has a similar number to mine.
Still, since I was up, I decided that I might as well stay up, though I’m not really sure what led me to decide that.
I spent a significant amount of time sitting around doing nothing in particular before finally showering and getting dressed.
My company was holding its annual picnic this afternoon. As it would involve free food and was located in Leesburg, which meant not having to drive far to get to it, I decided to go.
I got there about an hour and a half after it started, which was about halfway through the food-serving period.
A quick scan of the crowd led me to come to two realizations:
1. No one I knew was there.
2. I was the only person there alone.
So I headed over to get some food, sat by myself at a table, ate, got some more food, ate, decided that I couldn’t take any more of the music (a mix of classic rock and country), or the DJ – I’m sure everyone who wasn’t me found his shtick funny and charming – and that I wasn’t up to the task of being the creepy loner, so I left.
And that was pretty much the day’s excitement.
I haven’t done much of anything since I got home, even there are multiple things I could/should be doing.
I suppose I should give doing some of those things a shot.
Saturday, August 02, 2008
Friday, August 01, 2008
Watchmen Movie Posters
Ain't It Cool News has high-res copies of the Watchmen movie posters.
I have to admit that they do look pretty cool, even though I don't like all of the choices they've made in changing the costumes.
Even so, I do especially like this one, featuring the lovely and talented Carla Gugino as Sally Jupiter, the original Silk Spectre:
I have no complaints about the changes they made to this particular costume.
(By the way, I should mention that it's a very nice touch that the movie posters are designed to look like the house ads done for the comics back when they came out, which can be seen here.)
I have to admit that they do look pretty cool, even though I don't like all of the choices they've made in changing the costumes.
Even so, I do especially like this one, featuring the lovely and talented Carla Gugino as Sally Jupiter, the original Silk Spectre:
I have no complaints about the changes they made to this particular costume.
(By the way, I should mention that it's a very nice touch that the movie posters are designed to look like the house ads done for the comics back when they came out, which can be seen here.)
Red Kryptonite Post
There are a lot of features that are popular with other bloggers that I don’t make use of here, such as interesting, engaging content that appeals to a wide audience and keeps people coming back for more, and, more to the point, lists.
Lists are all over the blogosphere, and while many people complain about their ubiquity, they clearly have an appeal that is undeniable.
Some people could argue that, like Red Kryptonite in Silver Age Superman stories, lists are a lazy gimmick that bloggers use when they can’t come up with any ideas for actual blog posts, yet if you were to read a letter page from a Silver Age comic, you would see that there was always a demand for more Red K stories, and so it is today with lists.
Even so, I would never be so lazy as to post something as hacky as a list.
Nope, I’d just post a link to someone else’s list: 8 People Who Will Ruin Your Party.
Okay, the reason I posted this link is not (just) that I’m too lazy to come up with a real entry, it’s to point out that, while my backstory would be different from the one provided in the example, I am clearly a classic Number 6.
Also, it sets me up to post a link to another entertaining entry on the site: Highlights Magazine: The Evil Version.
I found that one especially entertaining because when I was a kid I used to have a huge stack of Highlights, though I don’t remember why or where they came from.
(Where did they come from, mom?)
Anyway, that will do it for my lazy, Red K post. Just be thankful that you didn’t end up transformed into an ant-headed version of yourself or anything like that.
Lists are all over the blogosphere, and while many people complain about their ubiquity, they clearly have an appeal that is undeniable.
Some people could argue that, like Red Kryptonite in Silver Age Superman stories, lists are a lazy gimmick that bloggers use when they can’t come up with any ideas for actual blog posts, yet if you were to read a letter page from a Silver Age comic, you would see that there was always a demand for more Red K stories, and so it is today with lists.
Even so, I would never be so lazy as to post something as hacky as a list.
Nope, I’d just post a link to someone else’s list: 8 People Who Will Ruin Your Party.
Okay, the reason I posted this link is not (just) that I’m too lazy to come up with a real entry, it’s to point out that, while my backstory would be different from the one provided in the example, I am clearly a classic Number 6.
Also, it sets me up to post a link to another entertaining entry on the site: Highlights Magazine: The Evil Version.
I found that one especially entertaining because when I was a kid I used to have a huge stack of Highlights, though I don’t remember why or where they came from.
(Where did they come from, mom?)
Anyway, that will do it for my lazy, Red K post. Just be thankful that you didn’t end up transformed into an ant-headed version of yourself or anything like that.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Made Of Fail A/V Club: What The F***, Ladies?
The following clip from a recent episode of The Daily Show is funny, but that’s not why I’m posting it. The reason I’m posting it is that there is one element that annoys the hell out of me and leaves me utterly baffled. Watch for yourself and see if you can figure out what I’m talking about:
...
Did you see it? Do you understand?
No?
Okay, I’ll explain it to you. In the “Blue State” segment, featuring a guy who lives – shirtless – in a hut and does his “grocery shopping” in a dumpster, there was one aspect that jumped out at me: he has a girlfriend.
Yes, a man who eats roadkill and uses sour cream recovered from a garbage dumpster – albeit a dumpster that “seldom” has maggots – has a girlfriend, or possibly even a wife.
There’s really only one thing I can say about that: seriously, ladies, what the fuck?
A guy who essentially lives like a seagull has a girlfriend, yet here I am, with access to indoor plumbing and personal hygiene products – which I actually use, and did not acquire from a dumpster – a total loveless loser.
Granted, I’m a geeky weirdo, I’m socially awkward, I’m probably needy and clingy, and, as will be examined in a future post, I’m not much fun at parties, and I probably have a host of other character defects that are not immediately apparent – either to myself or others – but, and I can’t stress this point enough, I don’t eat food that I found in a fucking dumpster.
Maybe it’s not fair of me to use the romantic choices of one woman as an indictment of your entire gender, but I think this case is extreme enough to warrant it.
So, I ask again: What. The. Fuck?
*Sigh* Okay, I’m coming off as bitter and hostile, but honestly, can you blame me? When you’re a gainfully-employed homeowner with prospects for the future, and being romantically involved with you would not, in any way, shape, or form, involve eating animals that have been scraped up off the highway, yet you have worse luck with women than a guy living in a hut in the woods and eating food from dumpsters, I think a little bitterness and hostility is appropriate.
And sure, bitterness and hostility aren’t especially attractive qualities, but seriously, he eats food out of a fucking dumpster. And more to the point, his girlfriend/wife has to do so as well.
Okay, rant over. I think I’ll go get a snack– something I bought at a store– and then maybe take a shower, or make some other liberal use of my indoor plumbing in one of my three (indoor) bathrooms.
...
Did you see it? Do you understand?
No?
Okay, I’ll explain it to you. In the “Blue State” segment, featuring a guy who lives – shirtless – in a hut and does his “grocery shopping” in a dumpster, there was one aspect that jumped out at me: he has a girlfriend.
Yes, a man who eats roadkill and uses sour cream recovered from a garbage dumpster – albeit a dumpster that “seldom” has maggots – has a girlfriend, or possibly even a wife.
There’s really only one thing I can say about that: seriously, ladies, what the fuck?
A guy who essentially lives like a seagull has a girlfriend, yet here I am, with access to indoor plumbing and personal hygiene products – which I actually use, and did not acquire from a dumpster – a total loveless loser.
Granted, I’m a geeky weirdo, I’m socially awkward, I’m probably needy and clingy, and, as will be examined in a future post, I’m not much fun at parties, and I probably have a host of other character defects that are not immediately apparent – either to myself or others – but, and I can’t stress this point enough, I don’t eat food that I found in a fucking dumpster.
Maybe it’s not fair of me to use the romantic choices of one woman as an indictment of your entire gender, but I think this case is extreme enough to warrant it.
So, I ask again: What. The. Fuck?
*Sigh* Okay, I’m coming off as bitter and hostile, but honestly, can you blame me? When you’re a gainfully-employed homeowner with prospects for the future, and being romantically involved with you would not, in any way, shape, or form, involve eating animals that have been scraped up off the highway, yet you have worse luck with women than a guy living in a hut in the woods and eating food from dumpsters, I think a little bitterness and hostility is appropriate.
And sure, bitterness and hostility aren’t especially attractive qualities, but seriously, he eats food out of a fucking dumpster. And more to the point, his girlfriend/wife has to do so as well.
Okay, rant over. I think I’ll go get a snack– something I bought at a store– and then maybe take a shower, or make some other liberal use of my indoor plumbing in one of my three (indoor) bathrooms.
Singled Out
Most Singles
This list shows the US cities with the highest percentage of single people.
It's interesting to note that three cities that I either currently live in or near or have previously lived in or near are on the list: Washington D.C., Minneapolis, MN, and Marquette, MI.
I say it's interesting because I've long complained that while there may be places where there are a lot of single women, I haven't lived in them, yet this list suggests that I'm mistaken in this claim.
It's important to note, however, that this is a list of singles in general, so it includes men. Who knows what the specific numbers actually break down to.
(Besides, when I lived in Marquette I was married.)
Further, it seems clear that the numbers for most of the cities listed are skewed by the fact that they all have a substantial population of college students. Marquette, for example, is home to Northern Michigan University (my alma mater), which has a student population of 8,500, which is significant when you note that the total estimated population of Marquette is 20,488.
So, yeah, I'm not sure that this list actually means anything.
This list shows the US cities with the highest percentage of single people.
It's interesting to note that three cities that I either currently live in or near or have previously lived in or near are on the list: Washington D.C., Minneapolis, MN, and Marquette, MI.
I say it's interesting because I've long complained that while there may be places where there are a lot of single women, I haven't lived in them, yet this list suggests that I'm mistaken in this claim.
It's important to note, however, that this is a list of singles in general, so it includes men. Who knows what the specific numbers actually break down to.
(Besides, when I lived in Marquette I was married.)
Further, it seems clear that the numbers for most of the cities listed are skewed by the fact that they all have a substantial population of college students. Marquette, for example, is home to Northern Michigan University (my alma mater), which has a student population of 8,500, which is significant when you note that the total estimated population of Marquette is 20,488.
So, yeah, I'm not sure that this list actually means anything.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
To Disturb And Protect
As a pleasant change of pace, last night I fell asleep almost as soon as my head hit the pillow.
However, about an hour and a half later I was awoken by the sound of someone yelling outside my window.
After hearing things like, “I have a dog in the cruiser and I will sic him on you,” and “Hands behind your head! Get down on the ground! Face down!” I realized that the person yelling was probably a cop.
After the person being yelled at complied, the cop brought his voice down to a lower – but still high – volume and began asking questions.
The person he was talking to explained that he was 19, from around here, and was simply out for a walk.
A while later another cop showed up and began asking the same questions, then they explained to the guy why they’d stopped him.
Apparently there have been a lot of break-ins lately, so they’ve been patrolling the neighborhood and immediately responding to any suspicious activity.
That was kind of a good news/bad news thing. I mean, the good news is that the cops are being vigilant. The bad news is that they’re being vigilant because there have been a lot of break-ins in my neighborhood.
Actually, from what one of them said, it seems more like they’ve been walk-ins, with not all that much breaking; basically someone – or someones – has been going around to back doors to see if they’re unlocked, and, if they are unlocked, letting themselves in. Presumably this would mean that they’re not putting any extra effort into the endeavor if they find the door is locked. As I always lock my back door, I’m hoping that I won’t run into any issues with this.
Anyway, I’m glad that the cops were doing their job, and that they did it in a relatively calm and level-headed fashion, preventing the whole thing from turning into some sort of “Don’t tase me, bro!” YouTube spectacle.
I just wish they hadn’t been doing their job right outside my window on a night when it was finally looking like I was going to get a decent night’s sleep.
On my way home today, I had a run-in with the cops, as they were doing some sort of driver’s license checkpoint. This time around I wasn’t told to have a “cheerful” day.
After getting past that I hit the comic shop, then came home and watched some recorded TV and tried not to fall asleep on the couch.
And that’s pretty much been all of the excitement since my last entry.
I got to leave at the normal time today, as my Wednesday 4:00 conference call has been rescheduled due to a conflict one of the participants has. Unfortunately, it’s been rescheduled to 4:00 on Thursdays, so I haven’t really gained anything. I could have been a jerk and selfishly accepted the other proposed time, which was 3:00 on Wednesday, which would have meant that there’d be no day on which I’d have to stay late, but I couldn’t do it. Why? Well, as it is, there’s a person in New Zealand who’s on the call at 8 AM his time, and I couldn’t bring myself to make him get on a call at 7 AM, so I accepted the proposal to just move the call to Thursday.
Oh well.
However, about an hour and a half later I was awoken by the sound of someone yelling outside my window.
After hearing things like, “I have a dog in the cruiser and I will sic him on you,” and “Hands behind your head! Get down on the ground! Face down!” I realized that the person yelling was probably a cop.
After the person being yelled at complied, the cop brought his voice down to a lower – but still high – volume and began asking questions.
The person he was talking to explained that he was 19, from around here, and was simply out for a walk.
A while later another cop showed up and began asking the same questions, then they explained to the guy why they’d stopped him.
Apparently there have been a lot of break-ins lately, so they’ve been patrolling the neighborhood and immediately responding to any suspicious activity.
That was kind of a good news/bad news thing. I mean, the good news is that the cops are being vigilant. The bad news is that they’re being vigilant because there have been a lot of break-ins in my neighborhood.
Actually, from what one of them said, it seems more like they’ve been walk-ins, with not all that much breaking; basically someone – or someones – has been going around to back doors to see if they’re unlocked, and, if they are unlocked, letting themselves in. Presumably this would mean that they’re not putting any extra effort into the endeavor if they find the door is locked. As I always lock my back door, I’m hoping that I won’t run into any issues with this.
Anyway, I’m glad that the cops were doing their job, and that they did it in a relatively calm and level-headed fashion, preventing the whole thing from turning into some sort of “Don’t tase me, bro!” YouTube spectacle.
I just wish they hadn’t been doing their job right outside my window on a night when it was finally looking like I was going to get a decent night’s sleep.
On my way home today, I had a run-in with the cops, as they were doing some sort of driver’s license checkpoint. This time around I wasn’t told to have a “cheerful” day.
After getting past that I hit the comic shop, then came home and watched some recorded TV and tried not to fall asleep on the couch.
And that’s pretty much been all of the excitement since my last entry.
I got to leave at the normal time today, as my Wednesday 4:00 conference call has been rescheduled due to a conflict one of the participants has. Unfortunately, it’s been rescheduled to 4:00 on Thursdays, so I haven’t really gained anything. I could have been a jerk and selfishly accepted the other proposed time, which was 3:00 on Wednesday, which would have meant that there’d be no day on which I’d have to stay late, but I couldn’t do it. Why? Well, as it is, there’s a person in New Zealand who’s on the call at 8 AM his time, and I couldn’t bring myself to make him get on a call at 7 AM, so I accepted the proposal to just move the call to Thursday.
Oh well.
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
TV Is Devouring My Not-So Precious Time
I don’t understand how I can climb into bed utterly exhausted because I didn’t get enough sleep on the previous night and end up tossing and turning and getting even less sleep.
Well, I suppose the fact that I’m Jon is sufficient explanation.
I like the original Sci-Fi Channel series Eureka. In fact, before I finally got into Battlestar Galactica, it had been the only thing I watched on Sci-Fi.
This fact would, presumably, lead some to wonder why it was that when I was reminded by an ad on IMDb that season three starts tonight I would exclaim, “Goddammit!”Of course the explanation for this is that it’s yet another hour of my time that will be eaten up by watching TV, and with last night’s recorded episodes of The Closer (which was, as always, excellent; if you’re not watching this show, you should be), The Daily Show, and The Colbert Report, as well as the 7:00 episode of The Simpsons, I’ve already used up two and a half hours watching TV.
I guess I just have to content myself with the realization that it’s not as though I would do anything worthwhile with the time.
I Get Phone Calls? Department:
Saturday night, while watching TV (of course), I got a phone call, which is, as most of you know, unusual.
What made it even more unusual was that it was a recorded message – that isn’t the unusual part; most of the calls I get are recorded messages trying to sell something or other – from Pastor something or other of the “Hurricane Church.” First time I’ve ever gotten a call from someone shilling a church.
At least, I’m assuming that was what the recording was shilling; I hung up as soon as I heard the ending “ch” on “Church.”
Sunday night I was sitting at the computer when my phone rang. This time it was an actual person, in this case a woman. A woman who was chewing some food as she said, “Hey, is crunch crunch there?”
To which I responded, “I’m sorry, who?”
This netted me a sarcastic response of, “Your wife?” (It was preceded by that condescending “god-you’re-so-stupid” tongue clicking sound that chicks make when they want to make it clear that they think you’re a complete idiot and are, in every way, beneath contempt.)
“I don’t have one of those.”
“Oh, sorry I must have the wrong crunch crunch.”
Yesterday evening my phone rang once, then went silent. The call duration wasn’t even sufficient for my Caller ID to register the fact that I’d gotten a call.
A half an hour later it rang again.
When I answered, a young woman said, “Hello, my name is Allison, and I’m calling for [some survey company]. Let me assure you that this is not – ”
I said, “Let me assure you that I’m not going to listen.”
Well, I didn’t say it so much as I just hung up on her.
Earlier this evening my mother called, making it four nights in a row that I got a phone call. This may be a new record.
Today’s Popsicle Stick Wisdom:
I had two Popsicles earlier this evening, and the riddles on the sticks served as a reminder of the fact that the simplest solutions are often the most elegant. To wit:
What time is it when you’re out of ice cream? Time to get more ice cream.
What did the bug say when someone stepped on it? Nothing. Bugs can’t talk.
This is a noble truth that we forget all too often as we struggle with the complex issues that we face every day, and it serves to demonstrate the fact that Popsicles are the answer to all of life’s questions.
Well, I suppose the fact that I’m Jon is sufficient explanation.
I like the original Sci-Fi Channel series Eureka. In fact, before I finally got into Battlestar Galactica, it had been the only thing I watched on Sci-Fi.
This fact would, presumably, lead some to wonder why it was that when I was reminded by an ad on IMDb that season three starts tonight I would exclaim, “Goddammit!”Of course the explanation for this is that it’s yet another hour of my time that will be eaten up by watching TV, and with last night’s recorded episodes of The Closer (which was, as always, excellent; if you’re not watching this show, you should be), The Daily Show, and The Colbert Report, as well as the 7:00 episode of The Simpsons, I’ve already used up two and a half hours watching TV.
I guess I just have to content myself with the realization that it’s not as though I would do anything worthwhile with the time.
I Get Phone Calls? Department:
Saturday night, while watching TV (of course), I got a phone call, which is, as most of you know, unusual.
What made it even more unusual was that it was a recorded message – that isn’t the unusual part; most of the calls I get are recorded messages trying to sell something or other – from Pastor something or other of the “Hurricane Church.” First time I’ve ever gotten a call from someone shilling a church.
At least, I’m assuming that was what the recording was shilling; I hung up as soon as I heard the ending “ch” on “Church.”
Sunday night I was sitting at the computer when my phone rang. This time it was an actual person, in this case a woman. A woman who was chewing some food as she said, “Hey, is crunch crunch there?”
To which I responded, “I’m sorry, who?”
This netted me a sarcastic response of, “Your wife?” (It was preceded by that condescending “god-you’re-so-stupid” tongue clicking sound that chicks make when they want to make it clear that they think you’re a complete idiot and are, in every way, beneath contempt.)
“I don’t have one of those.”
“Oh, sorry I must have the wrong crunch crunch.”
Yesterday evening my phone rang once, then went silent. The call duration wasn’t even sufficient for my Caller ID to register the fact that I’d gotten a call.
A half an hour later it rang again.
When I answered, a young woman said, “Hello, my name is Allison, and I’m calling for [some survey company]. Let me assure you that this is not – ”
I said, “Let me assure you that I’m not going to listen.”
Well, I didn’t say it so much as I just hung up on her.
Earlier this evening my mother called, making it four nights in a row that I got a phone call. This may be a new record.
Today’s Popsicle Stick Wisdom:
I had two Popsicles earlier this evening, and the riddles on the sticks served as a reminder of the fact that the simplest solutions are often the most elegant. To wit:
What time is it when you’re out of ice cream? Time to get more ice cream.
What did the bug say when someone stepped on it? Nothing. Bugs can’t talk.
This is a noble truth that we forget all too often as we struggle with the complex issues that we face every day, and it serves to demonstrate the fact that Popsicles are the answer to all of life’s questions.
Monday, July 28, 2008
Time Doesn't Care How Much Fun You're Having
I don’t think I could have been more pissed off about the fact that a. it was morning and b. it was Monday when my alarm went off today.
Last night and sleeping well…not so much.
At least there wasn’t a lot going on at work.
The big “excitement” was the phone training.
We’re switching to a new phone system in the next couple of weeks. The new phones have actually been hooked up next to our old phones for months, but they can only be used to make calls inside the building, so I haven’t bothered with using mine.
In any case, there was someone giving training sessions on the new phones all day today (and all day tomorrow), every hour on the hour. I went to one at 11, as I figured it was a good way to burn 45 minutes of the hour left until lunch time.
There will be training sessions all day tomorrow, too.
I just can’t get over how rapidly time flies once I get home from work.
I got home around 4:30 and sat down to watch last night’s Venture Bros.
For weeks my DVR wasn’t recording it, and I assumed that the show was on hiatus, but then I saw a new episode online and found out that I’d missed three episodes. I set it up to record again the other day, and this time around it did it.
After watching the show, I was amazed to discover that suddenly it was 8:00. How the hell did that happen?
I was going to watch The Closer at 9, whittling away yet another available hour of my remaining period of wakefulness, but decided to let it record and to watch it either at 10, or tomorrow, but I went downstairs a few minutes ago and found that, to my horror, it wasn’t recording.
I set it to catch the midnight repeat, so I’ll keep my fingers crossed that it will actually record and will be waiting to eat into my time tomorrow night.
It’s not like I’m having fun, so why is time insisting on flying every worknight?
It wouldn’t be so bad if I could get by on minimal amounts of sleep, but I just don’t seem to be able to function on anything less than 7 hours. Stupid aging process.
Of course, it’s not like I was all that resilient when I was younger, but at least it never seemed like my available time was flying out the window.
(By the way, the fact that I’m likely to squander any time I do have is beside the point.)
Anyway, not much is going on, as it’s proving to be a rather typical Monday.
Last night and sleeping well…not so much.
At least there wasn’t a lot going on at work.
The big “excitement” was the phone training.
We’re switching to a new phone system in the next couple of weeks. The new phones have actually been hooked up next to our old phones for months, but they can only be used to make calls inside the building, so I haven’t bothered with using mine.
In any case, there was someone giving training sessions on the new phones all day today (and all day tomorrow), every hour on the hour. I went to one at 11, as I figured it was a good way to burn 45 minutes of the hour left until lunch time.
There will be training sessions all day tomorrow, too.
I just can’t get over how rapidly time flies once I get home from work.
I got home around 4:30 and sat down to watch last night’s Venture Bros.
For weeks my DVR wasn’t recording it, and I assumed that the show was on hiatus, but then I saw a new episode online and found out that I’d missed three episodes. I set it up to record again the other day, and this time around it did it.
After watching the show, I was amazed to discover that suddenly it was 8:00. How the hell did that happen?
I was going to watch The Closer at 9, whittling away yet another available hour of my remaining period of wakefulness, but decided to let it record and to watch it either at 10, or tomorrow, but I went downstairs a few minutes ago and found that, to my horror, it wasn’t recording.
I set it to catch the midnight repeat, so I’ll keep my fingers crossed that it will actually record and will be waiting to eat into my time tomorrow night.
It’s not like I’m having fun, so why is time insisting on flying every worknight?
It wouldn’t be so bad if I could get by on minimal amounts of sleep, but I just don’t seem to be able to function on anything less than 7 hours. Stupid aging process.
Of course, it’s not like I was all that resilient when I was younger, but at least it never seemed like my available time was flying out the window.
(By the way, the fact that I’m likely to squander any time I do have is beside the point.)
Anyway, not much is going on, as it’s proving to be a rather typical Monday.
Your Color-Coded Guide To Jon
Inspired by a comment made by Scott on another post, I give you an illustrated guide to The Components of Jon:
Sunday, July 27, 2008
Motivation To Spare
There are people who seem to have unlimited reserves of energy, motivation, and ambition.
I’m not one of them.
The fact is that I only have so much energy, motivation, and ambition available to me, so I have to ration it out, as whatever I have upon waking has to last me for the whole day.
One of the major problems I run into is that I use up a good 80 to 90 percent of it just forcing myself to get out bed in the morning.
Thus today I made sure that getting out of bed was a leisurely, low-energy operation, leaving me sufficient motivation to go out and mow the lawn almost immediately upon getting out of bed, allowing me to beat the worst of the sun and heat, and get it all done before the brief thunderstorm hit.
I had enough motivation left over that, after having a balanced and nutritious breakfast of an ice cream sandwich, I took a shower and headed out into the world to pick up the things that I forgot to pick up yesterday.
Naturally this meant that I was caught outside for the worst of the thunderstorm, which hit its peak just as I got home and was standing outside my car trying to yank out the recalcitrant bags that seemed to know that it was raining and were therefore making the task of removing them from the car much more difficult than it really ought to have been.
Still having some motivation, I looked around the house and decided that it needed a good cleaning, so I got to work.
I’ve been doing a lot of that lately.
That is to say, I’ve been doing a lot of looking around and deciding that the house needs a good cleaning, and then just leaving it at that. Actually acting on that decision has been another matter entirely.
Today, however, was different, and as a result I’ve just finished cleaning up and now the house is all sparkling and Febrezey.
I’m not sure why today was different; maybe I built up some reserves by doing so little – even by my standards – on Friday and Saturday.
Even so, I often say that today will be different, yet that so seldom turns out to be the case.
More accurately, I often say tomorrow will be different, particularly as I’m lying in bed at night and have forgotten just how much effort the simple act of waking up takes on my part, so when tomorrow becomes today I find myself saying, “What the hell were you talking about last night? Today isn’t any different.”
Well, Except For That One Department:
I think a lot of people assume that I don’t like children.
This isn’t true, or at least it’s not true that I have any particular dislike of children that goes beyond my general dislike for the greater mass of humanity.
Certainly I’m not uncomfortable around kids in the way that some people are. After all, I have nieces and nephews who are children (or have been) and whom I love dearly, and I’ve changed more than my share of diapers in my life – far more than my share, when you consider that I have no children of my own – and given that despite any appearances to the contrary, I’m not an inhuman monster, even when I’m out in the world and see some little girl singing a happy little song to herself, or hear some boy asking his dad a bunch of unanswerable questions, my heart will swell, Grinch-like, to three times its normal size and bring a smile – or what passes for one – to my face.
In fact, it usually irritates me when I see a kid do something cute and the kid’s parent(s) doesn’t even notice, or is annoyed by it. It makes me want to stop the parents and say, “Oh come on! Even I thought that was adorable. Why did you even bother having kids if you’re not going to pay attention to them?”
(Bear in mind that none of this makes me actually want to have any kids of my own.)
However, I don’t like noise, and noise and children seem to be inextricably linked, so sure, sometimes, when I’m out trying to get my shopping done or whatever, I will often cringe at the thought (or the reality) of all the kids that are going to be swarming around the store with no concept of “inside voices” or no means of communicating their needs other than through screaming, and I will avoid that kids’ play area at the Dulles Town Center like it’s been quarantined by the CDC, but no, in general, I don’t actively dislike kids.
Except that kid at Target today who was running down the aisles in a serpentine pattern, wildly windmilling his arms as he went.
I do actively dislike him.
I’m not one of them.
The fact is that I only have so much energy, motivation, and ambition available to me, so I have to ration it out, as whatever I have upon waking has to last me for the whole day.
One of the major problems I run into is that I use up a good 80 to 90 percent of it just forcing myself to get out bed in the morning.
Thus today I made sure that getting out of bed was a leisurely, low-energy operation, leaving me sufficient motivation to go out and mow the lawn almost immediately upon getting out of bed, allowing me to beat the worst of the sun and heat, and get it all done before the brief thunderstorm hit.
I had enough motivation left over that, after having a balanced and nutritious breakfast of an ice cream sandwich, I took a shower and headed out into the world to pick up the things that I forgot to pick up yesterday.
Naturally this meant that I was caught outside for the worst of the thunderstorm, which hit its peak just as I got home and was standing outside my car trying to yank out the recalcitrant bags that seemed to know that it was raining and were therefore making the task of removing them from the car much more difficult than it really ought to have been.
Still having some motivation, I looked around the house and decided that it needed a good cleaning, so I got to work.
I’ve been doing a lot of that lately.
That is to say, I’ve been doing a lot of looking around and deciding that the house needs a good cleaning, and then just leaving it at that. Actually acting on that decision has been another matter entirely.
Today, however, was different, and as a result I’ve just finished cleaning up and now the house is all sparkling and Febrezey.
I’m not sure why today was different; maybe I built up some reserves by doing so little – even by my standards – on Friday and Saturday.
Even so, I often say that today will be different, yet that so seldom turns out to be the case.
More accurately, I often say tomorrow will be different, particularly as I’m lying in bed at night and have forgotten just how much effort the simple act of waking up takes on my part, so when tomorrow becomes today I find myself saying, “What the hell were you talking about last night? Today isn’t any different.”
Well, Except For That One Department:
I think a lot of people assume that I don’t like children.
This isn’t true, or at least it’s not true that I have any particular dislike of children that goes beyond my general dislike for the greater mass of humanity.
Certainly I’m not uncomfortable around kids in the way that some people are. After all, I have nieces and nephews who are children (or have been) and whom I love dearly, and I’ve changed more than my share of diapers in my life – far more than my share, when you consider that I have no children of my own – and given that despite any appearances to the contrary, I’m not an inhuman monster, even when I’m out in the world and see some little girl singing a happy little song to herself, or hear some boy asking his dad a bunch of unanswerable questions, my heart will swell, Grinch-like, to three times its normal size and bring a smile – or what passes for one – to my face.
In fact, it usually irritates me when I see a kid do something cute and the kid’s parent(s) doesn’t even notice, or is annoyed by it. It makes me want to stop the parents and say, “Oh come on! Even I thought that was adorable. Why did you even bother having kids if you’re not going to pay attention to them?”
(Bear in mind that none of this makes me actually want to have any kids of my own.)
However, I don’t like noise, and noise and children seem to be inextricably linked, so sure, sometimes, when I’m out trying to get my shopping done or whatever, I will often cringe at the thought (or the reality) of all the kids that are going to be swarming around the store with no concept of “inside voices” or no means of communicating their needs other than through screaming, and I will avoid that kids’ play area at the Dulles Town Center like it’s been quarantined by the CDC, but no, in general, I don’t actively dislike kids.
Except that kid at Target today who was running down the aisles in a serpentine pattern, wildly windmilling his arms as he went.
I do actively dislike him.
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