Archive for the ‘ Health ’ Category

Muse

I am currently getting smashed.

No, wait.

I am getting hammered.

Yeah, there is a difference.  Let me explain.

“Smashed” is used as slang by a co-worker of mine in a novel, yet crass, way.  An example: “Yeah, I smashed that chick.”  A definition:  Smash – verb – to fuck.

He’s an interesting guy.  I like him.  He has definitely altered my speech though.  I no longer get smashed.

Back to my point.  I am getting hammered.  A few days ago, I made this resolution to renew my efforts to write.  As some may know, I have what is essentially half a book written.  I did all this and then went crazy.  I have been fighting ever since to get back to a healthy mental state so that Asher’s story may continue.  The problem has mostly been a lack of a muse.

It’s a terrible weakness to give something or someone outside oneself the power to inspire.  Once upon a time, I was a college student.  I had a talent for writing, and I have always had a love of beer.  So it was that I would sit down to write a research paper and crack open a Killian’s Irish Red.  No big deal, right?  Actually, it kind of was.  I could not write without one.  And then two.  And then three.  Basically, I would get a six-pack and kill it in the name of writing.  The scores on these papers were good.  Like, 99 of a possible 100 good.  The results spoke for themselves.  My ability to play Xbox would suffer on account of alcohol, but my ability to write would be honed like a laser.

I’m not stupid though.  I knew this was a bad direction to go.  I stopped writing as much, mostly because I was working very hard to stop drinking as much.  I cut the amount that I drank dramatically.  It was, by most accounts, a win.  Except, I wasn’t writing much.  Every once in a while, someone or something would inspire me, but it wasn’t like it used to be.  Ever hear of state dependent memory?  That’s what we had here.

Then, finally, I found a legitimate muse.  It was a person.  I loved this person.  She made me want to be so much more than I was.  She blew away all the shitty little things I ever worried about.  My mind was free to roam.  When my mind roamed, it would create the scenery.  All I had to do was describe it.  It went quite well, for a while.  Even when times were bad, I could write.  I like to pretend that I was pretty damn good at it.  As you might have guessed, it didn’t last.  When she left, my mind fell apart.  I could come up with things, but only in fits and starts.

So it is that we find ourselves at the birth of a new year, and I am trying every trick I know to drag a single word out of my brain.  I know it is weakness, but it would be worse to do nothing.  I am doing my best to write.  I will not burden anyone with the responsibility of inspiring me.  I will be responsible with my chemical inspiration.  If I lack real inspiration, I will not write and drive.

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Twenty Twelve

Twenty Twelve

Anyone remember the resolutions they made last year?  Lord, I hope not.  I know my own track record is abysmal.  Remember that time I promised to work out every day?  Or how about the time I decided I would finally properly manage my budget?  Haha, good times.  The only things I’ve ever successfully made stick were my cessation of drinking pop and smoking marijuana.

This year’s resolution list is going to seem like a rerun, but I’m doing it anyway.  I am going to at least pretend  to have goals.

  1.  It’s time to start taking better care of myself.  Okay, the time to do that was back when I was 18, but I didn’t.  I’m going to do better.  I’ve already been to the dentist twice at the ass end of 2011, and my smile is one thing worth saving.  Additionally, literally EVERY other bouncer is magnitudes stronger than me.  I am not going to try to match them in strength, but I want to be stronger and faster than I am right now.
  2. It’s time to find my muse again.  I managed to write half a freaking book last year.  The only thing that could top that is to write the other half and finally take my shot at getting published.  I love writing, and it’s a travesty that I do as little of it as I do.  To my credit, I didn’t go back to trying to fuel my creativity with booze, but I do need to fuel it again.  People say I’m good.   I like to say that power not used is not power.
  3. It’s time to get a damned motorcycle.  I’ve always wanted one.  Every one of my friends knows I’ve always wanted one.  I’ll bet they are sick of hearing about it by now.  So I’m going to do it.  It doesn’t matter if it’s a shitty one.  I will have a bike.

I have plans for some of this stuff.  I need plans for others.  I hate asking for help, but I think I’m going to need it and I am FUCKING SICK of failing.

Poor

Money don’t grow on trees… 

My car is falling apart.  It is no surprise to anyone.  Even as things were blowing up in my face last summer, I started socking away money with the intention of getting new wheels.  The hope was that I could upgrade my ride this coming spring. 

My face is falling apart.  I haven’t had reliable access to dental care in a very, very long time.  I have a broken tooth.  I have done my best to keep my mouth clean, but I’m starting to get the occasional twinge.  I probably need a root canal.  I probably need more work on my whole mouth. 

The conundrum: I need working wheels to get to work.  I need to not be in constant pain so that I can work. 

I guess I’m getting a second job again.  Oh, and Christmas?  Cancelled.