Let’s get down to 2018.
First, if any of you are making guillotines, or thinking of making guillotines for the upcoming year, I make bicycle-drawn tumbrels, because making someone walk from jail to their public execution is just uncivilized. I’m making two models, one with a smooth ride, and the other that deliberately lurches from side to side and tosses the rider around violently. That one is reserved for criminals who got rich off of making poor people’s lives even worse, like loan sharks or politicians. Politicians who worked to make loan sharking legal get dragged naked by their heels behind a Prius on their way to getting a really close haircut.
Second, I’m still looking for a donor vehicle for the TGS2 or Sprint-T. The TGS2 needs a FWD vehicle with a powerful engine driving a robust manual or automatic transmission. The Sprint-T needs a V6 or V8 engine from a front-engine RWD vehicle driving an automatic transmission, because there ain’t gonna be room for 3 pedals in the footbox beside the transmission without major surgery to the driver’s side front corner of the body and driving around with my feet pointed hard left to clear the transmission tunnel. As it is I’m going to have either my left foot scrunched up against the steering column, or my right foot on top of the transmission tunnel, maybe both.
Third, I’m going to beat this depression, probably by deleting Twitter and only reading the funny pages in the newspaper. This might read as a bit of a hard turn after reading the first paragraph and the tumbrels and everything, but I can’t stay sane while reading about the current political situation with the inmates running the asylum and nobody picking up after them. I accept that it will get worse before it gets better, and the starting point for “worse” is about as bad as it has been since The Depression. But just because I know sorta how bad it’s going to get, that doesn’t mean I can’t close my eyes while I’m taking the ride. I think of it as self-care to avoid dealing with idiots. It lowers my blood pressure and keeps me from being as depressed. I know I’m bio-chemically depressed from years of untreated PTSD, but there’s no sense in making it worse by paying too close attention to the crazy in the environment.
Fourth, I need to get out and get more exercise. I don’t know how, because my previous method of getting exercise was to do things that require exertion in my daily life and recent events have made that extremely difficult for me to manage. And by that I’m referring to my hips losing range of motion and also losing strength in my arms, not to mention I did something to my right shoulder and now it doesn’t move right to match the condition of my left shoulder that took so long to recover from. But recovery will come and I will figure out how to get strong again even if it means wasting time doing exercises like calisthenics.
Finally, I’m going to keep writing. I’m going to keep posting about how I feel, if I managed to get some exercise, any trips outside the house I managed to make. I will make posts about The Human Condition, Mrs. the Poet’s non-swear swearing (she uses the phrase “Bubba-head” frequently, and also Fake Yiddishe), That Cute Thing My Cats Did, and anything else that strikes me as Worthy of Recording.