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