Monthly Archives: June 2022

OK I’m getting rid of Mrs. the Poet

For most of the month of July, she’s going to see her mother for the first time since she had her operation. She’s leaving 7/6 and coming back 8/3. So I’ll have to fix ramen and frozen pizza for a month, or some kind of other quick-fix food. I usually lose several pounds when Mrs. the Poet visits her mother. My blood pressure usually goes up a bit while she’s gone as well.

Anywho this excursion is costing me over $400, which will get replaced in my account soon. But this also means I’ll be all by myself without even any cats to keep me company for the entire month. I’ll live, “but I von’t enjoy it.” In case you don’t know where that quote comes from, it’s Chekov from TOS, when they found the thing that made people age rapidly, everybody but Chekov and they took tons of samples for analysis. But getting back to nobody to cuddle this is the first time since 2015 Mrs. the Poet has gone away without any kitties to snuggle and take care of. She didn’t go 2020 or last year because of operations and the pandemic. 2019 she went twice because our niece got married. She had to get pushed around the airport in a wheelchair because her back was so bad, but she got where she was going. This year I got her non-stop tickets because 2019 one of her flights she had to spend the night sitting in a wheelchair because her connecting flight was canceled for weather. This way if a flight gets canceled she can just stay home and not spend the night at DFW or LaGuardia.

Well the month of July is going to be a lonely one for me so if you wanna stop by and bring me dinner it would be much appreciated. It’s either a lot of beans and rice (because each batch makes like 8 servings), frozen burritos, pizza, and ramen, or people sharing food because I only know how to cook beans and rice, and reheat frozen food.

Things have been literal crap

Mrs. the Poet has had some kind of stomach distress the last several days that worsened last night to a literal case of full pants. Because of her mobility issues from the stenosis and surgery to correct same I was needed to wash her butt and backs of her legs last night. So good part, I got to get hands-on with a naked woman for an extended length of time; bad part that woman was covered in her own wastes until I washed them away.

Another bad thing was I was late(r) to bed and kept getting awakened by noises of the day. I got awakened by someone calling my cell to buy my timeshare, that I haven’t had since before I got hit with the truck, about 1100, then I was awake to help Mrs. the Poet with her shower and medical issues. Then there was something else that woke me up about 1430 that I never identified. Anyway this ended up with me not getting out of bed until after 1700. Mrs. the Poet is entirely unenthused about preparing the meal for tonight, because even the thought of food is bad for her stomach. So I have been contemplating the contents of the freezer and pantry for my big meal of the day.

OK I had frozen burritos for Big Meal (can’t call it “dinner” even though it’s that time because first meal is always “breakfast” no matter what you eat and when) and pork and beans as the side. After midnight I’m gonna have one of those breakfast burritos I got but never saw again for lunch, and then I’ll have the sandwich Mrs. the Poet made when she fixed her lunch sometime about 0600 because I have to timeshift again so I will be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed when we go out for dinner Friday night for Father’s Day Dinner (observed because my son-in-law had to work Sunday).

Another annoying thing: we didn’t get any candy because they had a huge price jump this week, and I’ve been craving chocolate like mad the last couple of days. I don’t have many pleasures anymore, and every time I have to give up or lose another one it just irks me even more. I gave up candy, I don’t get long cuddles with naked women, I gave away all but one of my bikes after I couldn’t get my leg over the saddle to ride because of injuring the other hip. All the things I used to find meaning in my life are going away and I’m getting angry about it, or as angry as I can get as depressed as I am.

And as if I didn’t need another reminder of why I stopped covering bike wrecks in this blog, there was a report of a cyclist killed in a hit-and-run next town over in Richardson in a hit-from-behind wreck in my dead-tree newspaper.

I’m having an exercise in exhaustion

I’m yawning over and over today, because I need to time shift again. I need to be awake during the day so I can do grocery shopping, but that means I can’t sleep today. This is something I used to do twice a week, every week, when I was working compressed shifts over at TI, but that was thirty-some years ago when I had more stamina.

Now I have a condition called Delayed Sleep Response, or as I like to call it Alien Planet Circadian Rhythm. If left to my natural inclinations I have a 28 hour wake/sleep cycle. If I don’t use an alarm to wake up I stay up about 20 hours and then sleep 8 which time-shifts me about 4 hours later a day every day, until I wake up about the time regular people go to bed, when everything gets crossways. What I usually do is when I start waking up in the afternoon I just push it a bit harder so I go to bed about 2000 instead of 0800. This means I stay up 32 hours instead of “just” 20, but for a few days I’m almost sorta in sync with the rest of the world. Now if I set my alarms to only sleep 6 hours instead of my full 8 I can stay up 18 instead of 20 hours and hold a diurnal schedule, but the problem is the Delayed Sleep Response, it keeps me from feeling tired when I should, plus I got used to just “not sleeping” even when I was tired from all those years of going from 12 hour night shifts to sleeping at night by just powering through getting tired and staying awake f-o-r-e-v-e-r. I always made sure I didn’t need to be alert when I did that, so I wouldn’t be in danger.

Right now I have another 6.5 hours to stay awake before I can get some sleep, so I’m reading some web comic archives to stay awake. I hope they will be interesting enough to keep me awake. And that’s pretty much it, the most interesting thing today is I won’t be sleeping until 2000 or so. And then I’ll probably sleep until 0400 tomorrow.

That was a good race

I watched the 24 hour of Le Mans over the weekend, then slept and watched the Sonoma Cup race. There was only like 5 hours between the end of the Le Mans broadcast and the start of the Sonoma broadcast, so I didn’t get much sleep and was passed out by 2300 Sunday night. Le Mans was won by Toyota, the backup #8 instead of the primary #7 but they still won, then at Sonoma for the last Cup race from Fox, which means the last race with multiple Faux Nooz advertisements. The winner of the Sonoma race was Daniel Suarez driving for Trackhouse Racing, which was a good win for a good guy. And I have been awake far too long today, I’ll cut this one short because I can’t think straight. I was going to write about the Sprint-T but thought bettor of it. Night-night.

I’m not dead yet, this time

The radio silence has not been due to death nor illness, I just lacked anything I could say civilly. As you might have heard we had a major school shooting here in Texas and the major cause is letting hormonally-addled teens have access to just-short-of-military-grade-weapons and unlimited ammo. And both our Senators are blathering about everything except letting hormonally-addled teens have access to high-powered semi-automatic rifles and all the ammo they could afford on their spanking-new credit cards. One even famously blamed doors for the heavily armed teen getting in, and not the laws that allowed the teen to be heavily armed.

Something else that happened that I didn’t want to write about was I fell over backwards the other day, fortunately with no lasting damage other than to my ego. But the efforts I had to make to get back off the floor had me questioning if I would be able to get in and out of the Sprint-T when I finished it. I had planned on climbing the outside of the roll cage and lowering myself through the top of the cage to get in, and the difficulty I had in standing up made me question my ability to perform those acrobatics. Seriously the struggle to stand back up had me wondering if I could get in and out of my dream car. I mean, what good would it do for me to build the car if I can’t even get in it to drive it, plus the balance issues that led to the fall might also be an issue with driving it. I get mistaken for being drunk often enough that it might be a problem when I’m driving.

Another issue that is ongoing is my inability to connect with members of the opposite gender and engage in mutual cuddles and satisfying my need for touch. It’s affecting my ability to concentrate and form sentences. In fact I think I will finish this paragraph and toddle off to bed because I have mush where my language processors should be because of my having touch hunger. I need more hugs and kisses than Mrs. the Poet is capable of providing given her problems with her back and it’s effect on her mobility. And I almost face-planted into the keyboard, I’m also sleep deprived to go along with touch deprived. I’ll catch you later.