Reconstruction
I'm not feeling much of an urge to get back into any sort of routine with this. I have multiple, partially-completed entries sitting as drafts and I suspect most of them will stay that way.
Still, I wanted to post something about my state of affairs rather than simply comment on the most frustrating aspects of the ongoing political scene. I'll hit one of those, briefly, in a post I'll take care of immediately after sending this one along.
The daily frustrations, disappointments and lack of anything resembling a hopeful perspective continues as part of my pointless, wallowing routine. I am Jack's Unproductive Self-Loathing.
On the plus side, I've managed to get a couple relatively solid nights of sleep, though those were achieved through a mix of exhaustion and chemical assist. Sometimes the end's more important than the means.
Two Thursdays back I gave a friend from childhood, Bob W., a call as a follow-up to some recent emails following my mom's death. Bob and I go back to when we were five years old -- he and his younger brother Doug were two of the first people I met in the neighborhood when my family moved down to Levittown after moving down from military base housing in Rhode Island back in '66.
We spent roughly three hours talking, each taking some comfort in the easy familiarity despite us not having had anything resembling a conversation in years.
A little later I happened to recall something, did a search and found something I'd written in 2005 that is more than fitting for me to recall in light of recent events. It confirmed a truth about myself which I'm sure applies to most of us: We learn, forget, and relearn important things over the years.
I'm not feeling much of an urge to get back into any sort of routine with this. I have multiple, partially-completed entries sitting as drafts and I suspect most of them will stay that way.
Still, I wanted to post something about my state of affairs rather than simply comment on the most frustrating aspects of the ongoing political scene. I'll hit one of those, briefly, in a post I'll take care of immediately after sending this one along.
The daily frustrations, disappointments and lack of anything resembling a hopeful perspective continues as part of my pointless, wallowing routine. I am Jack's Unproductive Self-Loathing.
On the plus side, I've managed to get a couple relatively solid nights of sleep, though those were achieved through a mix of exhaustion and chemical assist. Sometimes the end's more important than the means.
Two Thursdays back I gave a friend from childhood, Bob W., a call as a follow-up to some recent emails following my mom's death. Bob and I go back to when we were five years old -- he and his younger brother Doug were two of the first people I met in the neighborhood when my family moved down to Levittown after moving down from military base housing in Rhode Island back in '66.
We spent roughly three hours talking, each taking some comfort in the easy familiarity despite us not having had anything resembling a conversation in years.
A little later I happened to recall something, did a search and found something I'd written in 2005 that is more than fitting for me to recall in light of recent events. It confirmed a truth about myself which I'm sure applies to most of us: We learn, forget, and relearn important things over the years.
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