B: Mode and moment

It's feeling suspiciously like I've played myself. It's a quarter to 1 AM and I ought to be in bed but I threw some laundry on after waiting way too long to move a load out of the washer into the dryer. I should have cut my losses and just done the first load but we've gotten way too backed up lately, and we had it semi cleared out and I'll be damned if I'm going to let that happen again already. So I'm sitting up. I've got at least a half hour, let's do it.

I'm not a nostalgic person. I don't look back on the past with any kind of particular reverence, especially not as it concerns my life. I suppose in the grand scheme of things I do think back fondly on earlier days when I think about how terrible life on Earth is in the 2020's, casting my mind back into the unobtainable Then, when things were not perfect, but all the worst stuff that existed then still exists and then some. But that's more on a macro level.

For me personally, I don't. I have this whole blog and when I look back on it -- usually as a form of distraction -- I usually just shake my head. I do recognize the kid, and I guess I'm still him in every way that counts, but he had a lot of living to do and a lot of learning. Of course, on some level, he knew that. That was why he didn't believe in himself as a writer. No life experience, no romance, no confidence. I look at thousands upon thousands of old words and I think, just the primordial goo from which I emerged. If I thought I was whole then, I was kidding myself.

I'm still not, by the way, but a lot of pieces have been filled in.

During my wedding ceremony, the officiant Priya noted that we are born whole, not to be completed by another person. I half-agree. It wasn't Mel that completed or completes me, but I needed to be with someone to crack the code of who I am to other people. I knew I was never going to find out on my own and it constantly wrecked me. Now I at least know who I am to her, and that's all that matters. I have found myself. I have completed myself. Well, no, again, I am not complete, but I have certainly added to myself.

The focus of my ire at this time: early 2010, an era I don't often revisit. The kid! Twenty-two years old, brainy, anxious and grumpy. Working the register at HMV but not totally loving his co-workers, spending long days at University, watching the final season of LOST in a friend's dorm common room. (I sometimes wonder if I could have coaxed her to cheat on her boyfriend, if that had been something I wanted, but I would never.) Bleh, a bitch could go on and on back then. Sometimes a point emerges, sometimes I just shake my head -- he and I live in different worlds, you know. He thinks he's so smart, and once in a while he says something I admire, but I know he's got a lot of leveling up to do.

It has been a hectic month. We're on IVF again, but it's not going great. Mel is in personal crisis of body chemistry and I am a helpless spectator. Early mornings, shots, appointments, evening shots. Work... you know, they were trying to get her to fly out to California for the kickoff of her new project, and any other month that would have been pretty cool, but it was simply not possible at this time. They also dragged her out to Orangeville in what turned out to be a messy ass affair that did not make the week go any better. We have hardly had time to sit and take stock of what we are about to do. At least I haven't. We haven't given the situation due gravity, I suppose. I went to the office one day and saw people. Work has been hectic with a new release that is causing a lot more stress than anticipated.

There has been some good news though. We bought new toilets, which have been needed pretty much since we moved in. The upstairs never really flushed properly and the downstairs always ran long and although I suppose the standard move would be to try to fix the existing toilets, we took the opportunity to just get new ones. A tiny little piece of us making this place more ours. We went last weekend to Rona to look at some options and consult an expert. We booked a delivery and then I called around for quotes one installation. The one we hired was not the cheapest or the soonest, but it was the cheapest and soonest that would dispose of the toilets which was key -- I didn't want them sitting in the garage (I need to put the car in there when it snows) and I didn't want to haul them out to the curb. Just get them out of my sight. That's what money is for -- I don't have a lot of it, but that's what it's for.

I think about quitting my job but I don't take the idea very seriously. I don't think I would be happier at another job, partly because work doesn't make me happy. It lets me live so I can do the things that make me happy. Problem is, it's not quite giving me all the money I need to live, and my self-loathing self suspects that no job will because I don't see my own value, even though at the very least I am very good at this job.

I can't be sure but I feel like the other night I had a dream about work, and I mean this job, when usually my dreams involve being back at HMV.

I've been too busy to allow myself much distraction lately, which is poor for my morale, but that's how it goes sometimes. It will improve soon. I have this week off, and we have the procedure sometime TBD, and then the rest is gravy. Today I am embracing my need for escape. I do a lot for other people and I am present, and having a little corner of time when I don't have to be is what makes me happy and replenishes me. The world should want that for me.

I would love to use it to make money, but it stubbornly refuses to.

Mel and I were out and about today. She wanted to go to Staples for some items for her vision board project, and then we went to the grocery store to buy things for a lasagna, and for a charcuterie luncheon we're having with her sister tomorrow. It's perhaps a bit overdone -- we spent a lot on meat and cheese and crackers and olives -- but what the hell, man. I told her it's the charcuterie we didn't get at the spa (which, for what we paid, was a bit of a rip.) 

Listen to my problems today. Must be nice to be rich.

We made the lasagna together but she had a bit of an episode and had some very strong feelings about it. When they've become so frequent, it's very discouraging to her. She takes it hard, and personally, and it breaks my heart. We're doing everything we can but it's not enough. So tonight was not the best night. She felt so bad about not being able to enjoy the lasagna, after all that. I've always said, there's nothing worse than a meal not able to be enjoyed.

Well, there is, but it is on its own unique tier.

Last week, on Thursday, Mel had a social in the city so we both went in. I spent the evening wandering around, after procuring a South Street Burger for dinner. I went and took some pictures of the old apartment. And here I just told you I wasn't nostalgic.

I think that's all I've got tonight. We're almost ready to flip that laundry over and go to bed. Thanks to everyone who made this possible.

Keep on rockin'

-Scotto