I'd rather have bad luck than my luck....

Can't seem to catch a break. That would be the title of my autobiography, and possibly the title of a biography or movie licensed by me. Just as I hit a point where my work productivity has hit previously unfathomable levels, the truck that is my home jack-knifes on the road of life killing a bus full of orphans. Couple this with a precipitous weight drop and I'm having a week that is worth forgetting. I currently believe I am dead in the water and just waiting for the end to come. We'll see.

If cleanliness is next to godliness, then I'm a Christmas/Easter christian...

It's not that I don't like having my desk/apartment/car clean, I just don't like doing the cleaning myself. I'm not good at cleaning. Mostly because I'm not good at organizing. Part of this also has to do with the fact that my life is series of ebbs and flows. I'll hit a stretch where I have relatively little to do and some days will just be filled with monotony and time filling with menial tasks that need to get done but are not pressing or of any real importance. Then, there are times when I hardly have a moment to breath. Stacks of work and experiments and home life that need to be taken care of and serious decisions about priorities have to be made on the fly. This is only exacerbated by my procrastination that builds up in the low points. Because of this I usually hit a critical mass about twice a year when I give in and clean everything and organize everything and get it working like a machine.....for a few weeks. Then the gradual decline starts until the next time I can't take it any more. I think I'm reaching one of those melting points now. Once I get the current helping of obligation and productivity off my plate I'm going to put everything back in order and once again swear that I will keep it that way forever. Who knows.....sooner or later it might actually happen.

That's how we're raised down south....

I am the perfect gentleman. Wednesday night I went out on a date with two of my girlfriends. I even let the married one bring her husband along and I let him pick up half the tab. It was nice to actually go out and have conversation. Better than my talking to the TV or listening to the voices inside my head.

There were moments of great inspiration attained by our group. It was successfully shown that canibalism is a viable way to save a civilized society. And a recipee for Bisquick and steak sauce ice cream was put forth. The night did take a sad turn when we were all told the harrowing tale of a man having to pick all his clothes out of a fountain and walk many many miles in the cold and rain to find shelter.


The mexican food and gelatto helped heal the wounds.

I need not justify myself to you....

Monday again.

I spent most of the weekend cleaning my apartment. After returning home it struck me just how much my living room looked like a christmas grenade had gone off. I had literally come home from christmas with the family, thrown packages randomly on the couch and floor and then hopped the next plane out of town. The tissue paper, gift box carnage was everywhere.

I scrubbed it all off and now have an aparment that looks surprisingly big. I can also walk to the front door without tripping on something and breaking my neck. Bonus.

For those of you interested. The single hardest object in the entire world to assemble is the Fisher Price ESPN game station. And I mean ever. Stonehenge, pyramids, sphinx, eifle tower, malaysian banking buildings are trivialities by comparison. 84 one sentence steps to assemble this monstrocity and most of those were something along the line of "Assemble the 12 piece backboard bracing and join the electrical supply from the battery supply to the scoreboard." One lousy picture, no details. The first page is kind enough to inform me that assembly should take only 5 hours. I did it in a little over 6 and i am by no means a lightweight when it comes to building these things. I've put together bikes, action figure base stations, race tracks, furniture, full size basketball goals...you name it. Seriously cool toy, seriously poor documentation.

Ah...memories

So....someone tries to share something with you...a story, a place, a picture whatever, and they try and convey to you all the great memories they share.

and then you realize that the part of your life that corresponds with this part of theirs was nothing but sarrow, regret, and frustration. All at once all those memories come back to you.

Not. Good.

Not only are you now not in a good mood, but you are so full of jealousy of the person and their happiness that you can't even share in the good memories and be happy about it. And, you end up hating yourself more because it's not this person's fault that you have grown up devoid of happiness and yet in this moment they are having to bare the brunt of it.