What it's not

It took me twenty minutes to sign into Blooger today.

Usually, I'd fault Blooger for this; this evening, however, I'm afraid the blame rests squarely on myself. I'm having a typist tizwas.

Technical talk regarding profanity: It doesn't matter how many times you type the word "fuck" into the sign-in and password fields - you will never be granted access to your blog unless you enter your real info.
I learned that no one has a blogger ID/Password combo of "fuckfuck/fuckfuck"; ffuucckk/ffuucckk"; "fuckfuckfuck/fuckfuckfuck" or the like , for if they did, I would have been logged on as them.

It was all that I could type when I got home. I was helpless. I could think of other words, but could only hit four keys and 'enter' on my keyboard.
Fuck.

Perhaps a fresh pot of coffee will settle me down. I love the ritual of coffee- selecting the beans from the 'fridge and smelling them; placing them into the grinder and applying palm pressure ...
GGGRIIZZZZZZ......oh, how I love that sound. I think I get a contact high just from the sound of grinding beans. Run the water, fill the pot...not quite full, it's evening, ya know?
And you just gotta smell the fresh ground- that smell holds so much promise... I savor the aroma because this day sucks and the smell of fresh coffee is the only good part of it.

I should feel good, sorta: I had my workplace evaluation and was found worthy of pay increase - as high as 2.5%, but likely to be less.
Woo.
the
Hoo.
Fuck.

With that sort of money, I can buy shoes three times a year instead of my traditional two.

I did get high marks in everything except morale and attendance; I do sometimes call in sick and use the time to blog about how much I hate my job, so I can't really defend that charge.
I blog from work too- once my Boss asked me what I was doing:

"Allan, what are you doing?"

"Writing a blog about how much this job depresses me."

"Oh. "

But I'm not the slightest bit happy or proud of any of this, because I don't do fuck-all at work and really don't care about it in the least- I just find it 's easier to do a good job than a poor one. If I do a good job the first time, I can fuck off until the next task comes along- a period of days or weeks at my present office.

My favorite days are the days when someone asks me to move something, such as a pile of boxes or a set of modular furniture. It's not part of my job, but it's useful work and I like to consider myself a useful man. I feel better on those days too- the exercise is good for body and spirit. After noticing this, I have taken to the habit of a lengthy stroll in the evening; it's had a small but noticeable improvement in my overall well-being. Recommended for the office-bound!

...anyway... my evaluation just served to remind me how poorly fitted I am for the modern workplace. When I was drinking , I didn't have this problem- I'd still be drunk from the previous evening and that buzz (and a handful of pills) would get me through the day. Work was easy and my 'numbers' always kicked ass- I was very enthusiastic about everything when I was drunk and for me, most grunt-level office/admin work is actually easier if I'm three sheets to the Inkjet - if you get my meaning. With the proper drugs, the alphabetical order of letters can become interesting...even challenging. And I like a challenge.

But it'll have been a year (next week) since my last drink and I don't touch anything stronger than coffee at work anymore- but I just don't know how much longer I can work in the closet.
I don't mean a figurative closet- I'm not gay and my 'secrets' are a matter of public record-I mean an actual closet that might otherwise be used to store brooms, pails and cleansing supplies.

The walls are a bleak institutional yellow- the bleached canary shade is supposed to induce calm productivity . It is unsuccessful.To my eye it's jarring and harsh; at least, mercifully, it is not Muzak.
Muzak is the mind-killer.
Years of being in and around lousy live bands has given me an uncanny ability to filter out most sound- office babble; ringtones; traffic;bad music etc, while still hearing what I wish to hear...( I practice safe sound- use protection, no joke) but Muzak kills me because it has now usurped the music of my youth.

Hearing 'Train in Vain' on the lift is discouraging, to say the least.

Things, of course, are in a sort of stasis during the current family situation- but it's given me some time to think and to plan- at some point in the foreseeable future there will be a yes/no decision ( or series of, more like) to make and I'd better be prepared to not fuck it up.

A year ago, I would have gone out and purchased a 12-pack of beer if I found myself typing "fuckfuckfuck" into the PC. That is how I dealt with the things that made me unhappy or uncomfortable, which was everything by that point.

A year ago I would be dead in less than ten days.
I was barely saved in the ER.

Tonight, I paused, did my little coffee bit watched the rain for awhile...then came back and wrote this, which really isn't about anything.

It's not Shakespeare, but it's also not a twelve-pack.

I'm gonna deal with what comes, because that is what adults do when things happen. After a time, all will work out; better or worse, my obligations will be discharged and the rest is up to me.

I'd like to say that having a near-death experience produced some sort of epiphany that caused me to find some miraculous instant inner peace but it didn't work like that for me.
Instead , I have good days and bad days. I expect that will continue for the rest of my life, but that's normal- even for 'normal ' people.
I've noticed that some things that I used to consider important now seem irrelevant and silly, and the reverse. This is corny, even trite, but I think it's important to do right by others- I mean, duh? Common sense would dictate this starts by being good to oneself, right?

Try telling that someone who is hell bent on destroying themselves. They don't listen very well.

Trying times...

Overall, things are better and seem to be continuing in that direction, life happens, it ends- but until then you do what you can and enjoy the good- and there will be good, even if you can't see it now. I know this is true- I forget it from time to time, but deep inside I know that life is worth the effort. I'm reminding myself of this right now.
Perhaps it'll spread.

See. That wasn't so bad...calmed down, got some words out. It doesn't have to make sense- it's a blog.

It's not a twelve-pack.


HOLY COW UPDATE:

I just posted the above. I was full of fear and trying be brave, show hope. Tough old me!
The phone rang- my brother.
The giant malignant tumor that was inside my Grandmother and causing her such pain was not a tumor at all.
Some serious errors were made in the examining of the x-rays.
Don't ask what the mass really was - but the good news is that she is not expecting to leave us any time soon.
Thank you all for hopes , prayers, comments, everything...love to all of you!

I guess I should be mad at the first set of doctors Gran saw but I'm not.

I'm not mad at anyone right now.