Well, I survived the week of bullshit...
My co-workers that did not fare as well as I seem to be handling it better than I am. I don't like the "survivor syndrome" thing, I've lived through that too many times already and, having an excessively large guilt bone, it was in high gear all week. I'm surprised I wasn't purring.
I still have no clear idea what I'm going to be doing once ensconced in my office at the client's place. This should be an adventure grande... fuck me...
I was so wigged out last night when I got home I drank three stouts and consumed half a bag of salt and vinegar potato chips for dinner and they burned the shit out of my tongue. That will teach me, right? Ha, I think not... Tonight I dined on some Sam Adams Creme Stout and some Percocet and I ate some left over macaroni and cheese and I'm thinking that the few lone stouts hiding in the icebox need not stay there long. I'm beginning to be a fan of this barbituates and beer thing. It puts a nice dull edge on and it helps. Good thing I'm not the addictive type. Seriously. Never have been, never will be. I almost wish I was the addictive type, I think I'd make a good lush. Not an alcoholic, just your garden variety lush. Perhaps yet, time will tell.
So, here I sit with a dark glow on and a keyboard and some music playing in the background and I wish I had something interesting to say. But I don't. So, forgive me if I ramble about hoping to stumble over something interesting. I do find that I type much faster and with fewer errors in this fuzzy state. Go figure.
I just went outside to have a cigarette and took a walk over the bridge that spans the brook and stood listening to the spring peepers, they're singing up a storm in the woods tonight. You know, in all my life I've never actually seen one. There's so many out there that their chorus is almost maddening, but they hide well. One of these days, maybe. I heard a Great Horned Owl the other night. The place used to be thick with them when we first moved here 1980, one used to sit in one of the huge black spruce trees in the front of the house and hoot all night. Had one swoop though the yard one night when I was sitting out looking at the stars, it went right over my head. It was huge. Very pretty birds, are they. Alas, they've all but gone, their hunting grounds are now tract homes and mini-mansions, I guess the one I heard was just passing through. Still have lots of bats, though. Little Brown Bats. They're a treat to watch in the summer twilight, flitting around eating bugs and zooming in between the trees. When we had our swimming pool, my youngest daughter and I were cooling off one hot night, standing on opposite sides of the pool, just enjoying the night and chatting, when a bat flew down over my head, skimmed the surface of the water for a drink and zoomed up over her head. It happened so fast we didn't even have time to react, except to laugh our asses of when we realized what we just experienced. Those are the grand moments in life, the unexpected surprises, the odd little things that never enter your mind until the happen. Like the time I was out raking leaves one Saturday afternoon, oblivious to the world around me, just enjoying being outside doing something on a beautiful Autumn day, when I stopped raking, turned around and a young buck whitetail deer was standing there, not ten feet away from me, watching me at my task. I was so surprised that I didn't even blink. We stood there, looking at each other for at least thirty seconds, then he snorted, shook his head and turned around and casually walked back into the woods. I saw him once again, a week or so later, pawing around in the dying grasses in the woods just over the brook. I yelled "Hi" to him and he looked up, stared at me and went back to his rooting around, like I wasn't even there. Maybe it's been he and his harem that come back every winter to chew the crap out of my shrubs every night. It pisses me off, but, since most of their feeding grounds are gone, I can't help but feel sorry for them and as long as they don't eat anything too rare or important, I can't really chase them away. They're curious, too. More than once I've seen their tracks in the snow, coming right up our back sidewalk and they've been standing right at our back door, probably having a look inside, wondering just what goes on in this grim old pile. I think I really need to move further out into the wilderness to spend the end years of my life, I've grown tired of the sprawl of suburbia and the nonsense that goes along with it. I would really, really like to spend the end of my life in the deep alone. I've spent so many years working and doing those things necessary to help raise a family and keep a roof over our heads that I've neglected the things that I need for me, to a great extent. I'm a very solitary person. I don't mind being alone, I rather fancy it, actually. Maybe one of these days. I would be very happy to spend my days in a place quiet, save for the sound of the birds and the wind in the trees and my nights in a place dark, lit by the spare light of the moon or the stars. I would enjoy the occasional company of others, but when by myself, I prefer to be just a small part of the world around me. I don't need the distractions of modern life. I could very get along without a TV and most definitely get along without the intertubes. Might have a need for a radio though, I do like my music, but that's all. And, if couldn't have that, I'd settle for the music of the world around me. Ah, well, I can hope and dream, can't I?
I'm going out for another smoke, be back in a bit...
Rain is coming. Looks like another weekend trapped inside, no work in the gardens again. I think I'll spend some time in Dame Recliner, with coffee and book.
Well, I've rambled on here a bit, haven't I. Sorry for gnawing on your ear like that. The Land of Nod calls.
Fair 'eve, my fellow wanderers...


Touch me...