5:52 AM: constant hum, consistent drum

So, it's a dreary early Spring day and I have absolutely no energy. It's Friday afternoon and I've done whatever work I feel I can elect to do, which is probably less than I should do, but you know how it is (I mean, do you? Don't you?) Nothing essential is getting missed, that's for sure. Work is not, per my last post, "back to normal" or even close.

Every so often -- like nowish -- I think about the years we lived in the city, and how it felt like our playground. You'd walk from place to place, you felt like it was all your territory, like you owned it. We didn't even go out that much, but I do remember nights or sunny afternoons gamboling down Queen street or on the Quay or up Spadina or to Parkdale or out to Leslieville, what have you. Like, we were the furthest thing from Urbanites, we were really just waiting to move back to the suburbs, but for a while there was a novelty, in those times when we didn't merely go from place-we-needed-to-be to place-we-lived.

I look back on posts from the lockdown period and you know, there was a lot of mental anguish and frustration in the relationship dynamic at that time, but there was a niceness to going out for walks around the shut-down city. Even just going as far as the sushi place around the corner, or down to the Loblaws, as we did one time (a study in changes over years if you compare to our recent debacle walking to the grocery store.)

I don't know, there's no point in being nostalgic for it. There is power there because it isn't how things are anymore and it didn't totally suck. But as I have tried to describe it, to capture it in words, the feeling seems to have faded, the strength of that memory, what I liked so much. I like walking but I need somewhere to walk. Being around buildings, on the sidewalk, on the street, there was always something. 

I was getting a little cranky because I was shirking work but not "doing anything" with the time. But honestly my mind is pretty cluttered right now and fatigued so it's probably best if I just chill. I've become pretty critical of things I'd been spending time on, but I'm trying not to let it get to me. We have a lot of meetings set up, exciting and scary.

Mel has been going into the office at least once per week lately, the Oakville office. I haven't shared this habit with her, but we've talked about maybe I ride with her to the Oakville station and take the train from there. I don't want to and with nothing going on at work there's no motivation to, but it's in the air, and I like the idea of doing it for summer. We might have to work it out so that I don't rely on her to get all the way home, but that's up for debate. I like having the house to myself now and again, not that I do anything with it (...) and I'd like having a solo-ish trip to the office now and then too. She has thanked me for supporting her and of course I would. I think work from home is great but leaving the house more frequently is also the curative for some of her recurring anxiety, which stretches way back to pre-pandemic times. I'm proud of her for trying and want to have her back on it.

I haven't spoken much about this but from time to time Mel and I sleep in different beds/rooms. I don't tell people about this because it sounds bad or wrong but it's for mundane, non-dramatic reasons. I snore, and she hogs the mattress. So every so often one of us goes off to the other room. If I can hold off on going to sleep until after she's out (which is a safe bet) the snoring won't bug her, but when I'm too tired to hold up, there's a problem. I sleep pretty good on nights like that, but I think my body is rejecting the excess of rest because I wake up groggy and, I don't know, sleep-drunk. And I feel lonely, you know, without her there (she also snores, but I find it comforting for the most part.) It's a give-and-take, a trade off.

Well, this rambling, shambling nothing of a post seems to be coming to an end. My brain feels a little more alert. I feel I have earned my afternoon coffee (late) and some TEW, or whatever I choose. Simple dinner tonight. Last night I put everything I had into some garlic and rosemary veal chops. Mel was underwhelmed. Her verdict, maybe it needs a sauce. Okay, sure, I'll give you that. I don't love cooking but I do like eating good food. Oh well. I would also say the recipe needs work, I can take constructive criticism. I want that on record. 

I do have a messy kitchen, but it's an easy clean these days with the new dishwasher. Unload, load, run, badda-bing.

I leave you this.

Keep on rockin'

-Scotto

5:36 AM: The Return to Earth

I don't know what's wrong with me and why I get so skittish about some of these meetings I'm supposed to be taking, about sending out inquiry emails for something I openly claim to want. I'm scared, obviously, of anything big, even if I do want it, and I feel paralyzed. As if inaction will somehow protect me.

It's kinda funny, you know. I get anxiety. I get nerves, I get panic, but it's such a smaller scale and level than what Mel gets that it almost feels unfair to acknowledge it as a real thing. And I mean, my intention is to fight my way through it, so maybe it isn't a real thing, but it sure feels real. It's not like, on a conscious level, I have any doubts about the direction of my life, but there's always that part of me that goes... freeze. Don't make any false moves. You're safe now and but if you budge, you won't be.

I'm also thinking, sheesh... this blog really reveals that, as much as things tend to change, year after year, I'm still the person who started it nearly two decades ago. 

There's no point in hesitating. I need to take the plunge.

Ahem, ahem, but enough vaguetalk.

As mentioned, I was feeling really good leading up to Mel's birthday, which historically has been a stressful time for me. And there's a reason for that: there's a lot of pressure on me (intentionally or not) to make it a good, memorable, special day. 

I thought I had everything teed up, but my haplessness showed itself. When I talk about my haplessness, I mean this strange sense of failing spot checks and preparing fine details that ought to have, and also running into unforeseen problems that seem way outside of likelihood. It makes it seem both like I am the problem and like I'm not the problem, which is kind of the truth as far as I see it. 

I had planned to get out early in the morning, after setting up Mel's birthday pie (Jello x Cool Whip in an Oreo crust) to pick up some flowers and a helium balloon. What ended up happening was that, completely randomly, that morning, the arborist came by to feed some trees into a wood chipper that was parked immediately outside my driveway. So I was boxed in for at least an hour and completely lost my advantage. By the time they left, Mel was awake and ready to start the day. Now, luckily, she was keen to let me go pick up our special breakfast anyway but I could feel the ticking clock. I got the flowers but had to scrap the balloon (although I did stop in at Party City to see if I could grab it real quick.)

Our big activity was to be bowling, which was one of a few things Mel had guessed (I had advised her not to get her nails done in advance) and had me worried she would be underwhelmed when that turned out to be the case. I thought it would be nice since we hadn't been since way before the pandemic -- my recollection was that we hadn't been since my 30th birthday in 2017, but she seemed to think we had been one other time since. The significance was of course that bowling was something we both loved as kids, and I had even reserved us a 5-pin lane because that was her jam as a kid and we had never been together.

Well, when we got there they set us up on a ten pin lane and I wasn't sure what to make of it so I went along with it. Partway through our second game, Mel had chipped a nail (she's very conscious of her nails these days) and the physical exertion was adding up, and I felt guilty, so I inquired whether we could switch over to a five-pin lane, and they let us. So, even though it was sort of out in Siberia, we went and bowled two more games, which she won, which was nice for her, and she swore she was having a good time, nail or no.

After that we went to the chip truck and to Starbucks for her free Birthday drink, then home to settle in. But then the haplessness set in again when it turned out the Mexican restaurant we had wanted to order from -- which we've coveted since Mel first went there years ago but for some reason can never get takeout from -- wasn't allowing takeout tonight since they only offer it on Tuesdays-through-Thursdays. If I had checked in advance I would have known but the entire time I was like "Why worry?"

Ugh.

I had flashbacks to last year when I scraped the car trying to get sushi.

Anyway, we quickly sourced a replacement, as this supposedly good place was still open for another twenty minutes and I could rush out to get us some nachos from there, although it was a bit of a letdown in the end. At least the gift -- a crystal she had asked her supplier about -- was a huge hit. She had asked my opinion about it and I told her she shouldn't spend so much money, which is true, but also it made for a good gift as I sneakily reached out to the girl whilst we were cuddled on the couch.

So you know, I don't think it will go down as one of her favourite birthdays ever, and honestly I feel like I whiff it somehow every year even though she insists that is not the case. It doesn't help that we were/are sore for days afterwards from the bowling.

At least it held off until the next day to start shitting rain, although we were going to my dad's, which wasn't fun on the highway. We got off at Bronte and took the long way. Anyway, we made it, and Brandon arrived a little late on his own as Eric had missed the message about booking work off (which... ugh.)

We all talked a while about a variety of topics. We gave them the update on our situation, which was met with lots of questions and comments but mostly love and support. Dinner was chicken parmesan, handmade by dad, which he did a good job with. They got Mel some books that I had recommended. We talked a lot about my work situation with the cyber attack and everything, and dad picked at some of the particulars, although I didn't have answers for him.

I feel like, if I ever need to remember exactly what my dad was like, many years from now, I should remember that conversation. "Why don't you just call all the stores and ask them what they have?" "We can't do that!" "Why not? And why are the sales going to be loaded in at once?" "It's millions of article-sites!" "So? What's the difference?" That's my dad. Eminently logical.

We talked about how we had walked for groceries the week before and severely regretted it. We talked about their work and their trip to California and then about TV and stuff which is usually when it's time to go.

I made plans with B to go to wrestling in a few months. Eh, why not?

Sunday would normally be a lazy day although Mel went to get her nails done and I got groceries and then we went to Starbucks again (because that's, you know, the thing to do) and then we came home to be lazy. We ordered pizza for dinner but the ladies at Pizza Hurt accidentally made us a Hawaiian pizza with no pineapple so they did us a second one and gave us the botched one for free, and now we have a ham-only pizza in the freezer, after telling everyone in the family that we don't get frozen pizza because there's not enough room for us to store it (and because I'd rather just order pizza.) We played Mario Party. It was a nice night.

Work should be back to normal-ish this week, which is good. I've gotten some bad habits and I've definitely taken advantage of the down time, to perhaps over-commit myself to my outside projects, but we'll see how it shakes out.

With gray weather today and being Monday, it just feels like a day of tiredness and fatigue.

I gave myself a tummy ache. I shouldn't keep candy at my desk. I should have healthy snacks.

Well anyway, aside from large-scale psychological analysis, that's about it for tonight. I just wanted to, you know... update you on all of that.

Keep on rockin

-Scotto

5:16 AM: Variance in transit

It's the end of a workday... such as it is. I still don't have that much work to do because of the lack of systems but we are grinding our way through, and while we make our latest pushes to get things done blindly, we are also anticipating the return of certain key elements of the system before much longer. So that's good. Maybe I'll slack less. I've been really into this TEW scenario of playing WCW 2001.

I did some work and avoided others. I have to complete my self-assessment before my call with Maria tomorrow. I have a jar of jellybeans on my desk that enables me to give myself a stomach ache nearly every day. I have a cold decaf coffee. Not an iced coffee, just, you know... coffee that's gone cold.

I was reading old posts. I was struck with the urge to listen to Stars' 2010 album The Five Ghosts and then time travel back to the time in my life when I was listening to that album, back in the early days of HMV and SOTW and the end of University and everything. Man. That kid thought he was so far along but he was just a skinny little baby who hadn't even started. I miss him. I'm not nostalgic, but who doesn't yearn for a time in their life when things were new and scary and uncertain? Well, there is uncertainty facing me in the future, but that's too scary.

The blog was pretty active at that time but it was around then that it started to dwindle, due to a combination of growing self-consciousness, lack of anything to say, twitter and tumblr, even though I never wrote about myself the way I do here on twitter and tumblr. So those years are not well-represented, until it finally just cuts off in summer of 2013, which is all well and good because those years are deservedly something of a blur. I often talk about how I never know how deep the forest was when I was stuck in it and by that point I would have been in for years. In retrospect, as we all know, I spent my 20's basically waiting to hit my 30's. And I made it to 30 right on time. Now I'm almost 36 and there's been, well, marginal movement. I can't blame all of it on the pandemic I guess. I did get married, but I was pretty much married from the moment Mel and I moved in together. Hell, we pretty much got married when I took the Home Office Job and officially started spending every free moment with her. She has chided me in the past about putting off proposing to her for too long; in my view, everything that happened in this relationship happened right on time. She hasn't said that much lately, but there are other things that I think she wishes we had started sooner. Hindsight and all that.

This was not what this post was going to be about, but in fairness what was this post going to be about?

Like I said, time travel, younger days, quote-unquote "freedom," all that. Fourth year, anthropology, angst. Being 24 but feeling 18. Yadda yadda. I don't miss it, I just wish young Scotto could have seen the forest for the trees, although I know he tried. I don't beat him up over it. Everything that I needed to happen in life eventually did and mostly on time as I said, but I just wish there had been more to keep me occupied during some very quiet years.

Anyway. It's been cold and not at all springlike and that's got me feeling feelings. Otherwise I'm still on the usual treadmill about work and life and the future and the nebulously-described "other stuff" that I'm still not ready to talk about. I do think the statute of limitations should expire soon on my early January flipout, but there are still nights I go to bed seething over it... quietly now, on a low simmer. It will never stop biting to think about, at least a little bit, probably, but I think the older you get the more you accumulate until you just grow a callous and don't care enough to get mad at stupid shit like that anymore. Probably, I hope.

This Friday is Mel's birthday, and unlike past years I am not scrambling around at the last minute trying to set things up. No, it's pretty much all taken care of, although there was some late-breaking "Oh shit, what do I get her for a gift" until a perfect opportunity presented itself that I can be happy with and I hope she will love.

Other than that, things feel good. No, they do! Mel wants to go to the office more often after previously being averse to the idea, partly as a way of combatting her anxiety. The house is becoming marginally cleaner on a regular basis, especially the kitchen, thanks to our new dishwasher being able to be run anytime in the evening or overnight if we so desire. We manage to plan meals and have food in the house, but also treat ourselves to take-out on a reasonable schedule. We work out. Little victories, you know?

So yeah, why not end this on a note of positivity?

Keep on rockin'

-Scotto

4:40 AM: Surfaces covered with broken glass

I should be in bed -- logically speaking at least. The clock says 12:18 PM but it's Spring Forward so my body thinks it's 11:18 PM, which would also normally be within acceptable bedtime parameters, but my head is full of gunk. Some of it is consequential, some of it is not. Where life is going, what it takes to get there, what I do in my spare time, why I avoid responsibility (or at least, doing important, responsible things that need doing), things I'm writing, things I'm reading, things I'm playing (I got back into TEW in a big way, unfortunately, thanks to the work situation.) Anger at a Netflix show for leaving off the way it did. The world turns and I turn with it.

I had an observation recently about all the nights Mel and I spend cuddled up on the couch watching whatever it is. For the longest time we were devotees to TLC and 90 Day Fiance specifically, but we seem to have dropped that habit. But it doesn't matter what, whether it's a good show, or trash. We're watching Party of Five lately, and that's hardly the most insightful piece of media ever created, but it has us absorbed. The point is, we sit there, and we put on something more or less to feel like we're doing something, and we're maybe half-watching and half on our phones, and whatever. That's life, right?

And I think at some points in my life I would have had some profound thoughts about that, you know -- look at these two, just mindlessly whiling away their time on Earth with junk instead of making memories that will last. I mean, my life never wasn't like that, so who am I to judge, but still, if you step outside yourself once in a while you can see it. But I don't really think that's the case. I think the human brain wasn't exactly built to remember every single night of its life. Things blur and fade, that will always happen. There will be long stretches where you generally know what you're up to but can't remember the specifics. I have years of my life at HMV like that, years of school like that, childhood summers like that, years of my relationship like that. I certainly don't have the memory of, say, Ted Mosby, able to recall every single minute detail of my life to relate back 30 years. Hell, that's part of the reason I have this blog!

My point is, there is nobody I would rather glide in this way with than my wife. There is no experience I would rather be having than getting to be next to her, share a stupid comment at the TV, and plot through our endless numbered days. We are trying to make something of ourselves, but while that happens we have many nights, and some days, that will simply evaporate this way. 

Work has been... well, everyone wants to know, right? There hasn't been much, although there's been some, although it's still not yet up and running so that we can go back to doing the job as it was meant to be done. It stresses me out not to be doing more, makes me feel guilty, but what is there to be done? I'm answering e-mails, I'm following directions, I'm present to the degree that I can be and should be.

At the beginning of the month, Mel and I went to the city for work -- she was being social with her peers, and I was, well, I was along for the ride. It's been advised that this is a safety behavior and I probably shouldn't be her security blanket, but from my perspective, they want me in the office x number of times anyway, and it's more convenient if we both go in the same day so that our schedules sync up. So you tell me. Later this week, she'll be heading to her Oakville location -- I'll stay home that day.

The day in the office was what it was. I didn't gain much by it, although I put in some face time with the Andrews, although I certainly didn't make the most of it. I went in the next day as well because I had a dentist appointment in the afternoon, so it made sense to use the office as a springboard to that. I also saw Tony for lunch. It wasn't a very good lunch -- I ordered a shitty salad with a meagre amount of chicken on it, and the service at the place we selected was awful, but we had a good talk, our first since his unceremonious release from the company and, if I'm being honest, far too much distance between us during the pandemic. It's so strange that the guy I spent nearly every lunchtime with for my first three years at home office, I hardly saw or spoke to for the last three years, because hey, I'm bad at keeping up (though as I always remind myself, phones go both ways.) In my head we're still very close, and the lunch convo was every conversation we've ever had, sprawling from the personal to the political. I hope to keep in touch.

Weekends, we keep busy. We've seen a lot of Mel's parents/family lately, we went to Church with Nonna for the anniversary of Poppa's passing; Mel was feeling iffy all that day, so when we were at Nonna's she curled up on the couch and watched Passengers on TV (decently made movie with a loathsome plot) while Unc, Nonna, Papa H and I played cards. This past weekend, we were over at Mel's parents' again for dinner on Saturday to update them on things that are going on with us. It was nice, although Mel was a bit annoyed at me for not cutting to the chase sooner. Eh, that's not how I work. We also spoke a bit about how March 10 was technically the third anniversary of the state of emergency declaration for the COVID-19 pandemic. Time flies when you're... really not having a lot of fun.

Today was our day to finally take down the seasonal decorations: the shelf, the tree, et cetera. It wasn't a huge job but it was a job and we did it and did it well, keeping all our shit organized and now it's back in the basement (which I also need to clean.) I treated us to an exorbitant Starbucks (because I made the call to get it delivered rather than break off our momentum by driving out for it) and burritos for dinner. I had us watching Dazed and Confused but Mel wasn't feeling it by 3/4 of the way through so I offered to turn it off and watch something else. That ended up being the final episode of YOU, which is what I was mad about, and which my anger toward has me still processing hours later, even after we had some more serious and relevant topics to broach before bed.

My mind's a curious thing.

I've been doing a lot of writing. Obviously with the work situation being what it is I have more time than I ever have in my entire life, which is cool, although I don't use it to shirk a lot. It's not like I'm writing a dozen Uncanny X-Cerpts every week, and if I got a certain amount far ahead, I'd find something else to do because I wouldn't want my patter to be stale and dated by the time it was posted (I need at least a week for that.) There's such a thing as needing time to refresh your inspiration, you know.

But I have been busy with it, partly because I made the command decision on how I was going to tackle the Uncanny/X-Men split, something I've been scratching my chin over for years. The answer: more, shorter, posts, or ones covering multiple issues. This was on the table for a while, and feels like the fullest expression of what I want to do with the blog. So far it's pretty easy because each comic contains less "comic" at this point. I'm going to see how long I can run at this pace and try to stay ahead of my original forecast.

I'm also writing other stuff. That is something I've done -- once or twice -- during business hours, but who can blame me? I've got to make hay while the sun shines.

Well, now I think I've spilled enough words into the world for the night. I'm still not tired but I've burned off a bit of energy. I think I'm going to pop some corn and finish Dazed and Confused.

Keep on rockin'

-Scotto