It All Comes Down To This...

Here it is end of week and I haven't gotten no where near the work done as I usually do. I feel kinda like I am in purgatory, for all my Catholic friends. I am sure you understand THAT! Regardless, it seems like I often take 2 steps forward, and 3 back. Happens all the time to me. Bad karma? Possibly. I haven't been the coolest dude in history, although I sure do give it a go. I am really out of sorts right now, with health issues, a shakeup with my work, and a bad case of cabin fever.

This shit happens to me every year, and you would think I would prepare for it, but NO!! That makes too much sense! I would rather be where it is warm, the girls are wearing not very much, and I could sleep outside if I wanted to. Never happen living in Michigan, I'm afraid...

I often think I expect too much out of life, and yet my needs are simple. I guess it all boils down to a manic sized case of paranoia on my part, where I feel that life is always getting in my way. Of course it isn't. I have everything I need, and want for nothing. But at times, I would like to think I could live like the old days. Go out on a sunny August morning, throw a leg over the old 61 pan, and hie off into the day. Visit friends, drink too much, and partake of way too many drugs. Get home, eat a huge meal, with shades of Porterhouse, and fall out for another day. And that ain't gonna happen any more, folks. Been there, done that, got a fuckin' tee shirt to prove it. That was then, this is now. When do I fucking catch up?

Fuck it, don't mean nothin'...

Charlie~

On Being Blistered...

I have a terrible attitude towards people that are actually pretty stupid. I know it is a fault, but I struggle with it a lot. I have found in my old age the wisdom that we really are not ignorant at all (with exceptions) but it is more like we just don't understand things. I know there are a lot of things I am not even aware of. Ask me about quantum physics, and I will give ya the old "duh" look every time. I justify this by knowing that I have no need to know about this and therefore am not responsible because I can't carry on a decent conversation on the subject. And that is as it should be...

My trip is the simple things in life. We are taught from the minute we start kindergarten that the three R's are important, and your ass is on the line unless you learn them. Writing has always come easy for me. I make my living this way, and I am glad to have been blessed with not only the ability, but with a keen sense of what the written word is capable of. The old saw is that "the pen is mightier than the sword" is very dear to me. I had an uncle that taught me much about the value of the written word, and an aunt that was a poetess in high standing in the literary world. They both shaped my life for what it is today.

I had the opportunity to help my beloved daughter in law with a project for college this weekend. She was writing an autobiographical piece on the fact that she was adopted from the age of 6. I offered to help, of course. And I was blown away by her inability to put two sentences together. I came away humbled by this. I realize that not everyone is a writer, and haven't a clue how to put an article together. Know what? Changed my POV. I am not a literary snob by any degree. But I realize that here is a girl who is capable enough to be able to attend college, and not able to put together a decent paragraph. I came away from this in only one attitude - sadness.

Life is like that.....

Fuck it, don't mean nothin'

Charlie~

Life And Times

I struggle with things. Indeedy, I do. I have always had a big thing about routine, and find that the older I get, the more important it becomes to me. A lot of people think I have no life - I work 7 days a week, and often never leave the house for literally days on end. Know what? It suits me...

I have found that routine keeps my shit together. Struggling with PTSD is no easy thing. I am long over the flashbacks and nervous reactions of 2 tours in the Nam, but cannot lose the strong feeling instilled in me by that experience. Nowadays, I only live with constant nightmares, and it has become such a part of my life that at times I struggle with the reality of them. I slept for many, many years with a .44 magnum under my pillow, and had some serious issues with sleepwalking a lot of years ago. Now, if I decide to walk in my sleep, I will surely walk off the roof and plant myself face down in the asphalt. Shit happens...

Now I find myself working for an internet company that pays me well, keeps me busy, and hey! I got beer money! Since working for DIY, I have gone through 3 editors, and am now at a place where I am without one altogether. Lauren, my last editor, flew the coop for something better. We had a decent relationship that I hope continues. She is a nice lady, and the same age as my daughter. Gee! I can relate! But Lauren was savvy, had a great management style, and will be sorely missed. We had great things planned for DIY. Now I gotta train another fuckin' editor...

I have found out that my blood sugar level is higher than it should be, so my doc has decided to shove more meds down my throat. I now spend time agonizing over what my sugar level will be throughout the course of the day, and hate being hassled with this shit. I have spent many years doing all the wrong things, and have self medicated for so long that nothing else ever makes any sense to me. But you end up paying for that lifestyle, and I am a victim of my own debauchery. Like I care.

Rosie does well in her store, but the stress is kicking her ass. She has been having problems with employees, and everyone she hires she thinks "will work out well." The quality of what I have seen begs a different opinion from me, but I let her run her own business, and she lets me run mine.

I have taken up 3D modeling, and am making progress. It is a very exacting thing, and has a steep learning curve. I am now capable of making a half-assed decent scene, and my focus has been on faeries and dragons. Always lived in that world, ya know? Love a fae woman! Rosie thinks I am foolish, and thinks I just want to spend time making naked women beautiful. Exactly...

So ends my New Year's rant for those who give a shit. I find the blog to be a good release for me when the writing gets too ho-hum, and I begin to feel I am making a whore of myself for writing articles on things I could care less about. But the money is good, and what the hell else can an old Coon spend time on?

Peace,

Charlie~