Performance Anxiety

Jesu' Christo. You'd think I was performing for the New York Philharmonic Orchestra. But I feel that I owe you all some kind of post after a month. I'd like nothing better than to post some lighthearted little bit with a lovely picture and all that, just like fringes advised. She forgot that that Shit don't make it out of the editing department here at the ER. So this is what you get. I cannot begin to explain everything and nothing that has gone on in my life the past month. Suffice to say She's probably leaving and there is nothing that I even want to do to stop it. I got home from a roadtrip Friday evening, and my stress level went through the roof the second that i pulled into the driveway. If that doesn't tell you that something is wrong, there is nothing that will.

For those of you that used to read this blog, I appreciate all of you, but there is just nothing to post that isn't negative right now so you are really better off finding a happy happy blog to go support your view on life. It isn't happening here. There just isn't a light way to look at my life, despite all of fringes good advice. Even jokes seem lame right now. So go find a meaningful blog that makes you happy. This blog will only bring you down. I love you all, but there just isn't anything to be cheery happy about around these parts right now. Sorry. Wrong Blog. See Ya. Been fun. Time to get your kicks somewhere else people.

Pirate Ways

My pirate name is:

Bloody William Vane

Every pirate lives for something different. For some, it's the open sea. For others (the masochists), it's the food. For you, it's definitely the fighting. You tend to blend into the background occaisionally, but that's okay, because it's much easier to sneak up on people and disembowel them that way. Arr!

Get your own pirate name from piratequiz.com.
part of the fidius.org network

Fear

Confused feelings.
I'm Drifting.
Not sure what I'm feeling.
I only know that it terrifies me,
When the Beast goes quiet,
and runs and hides from something worse.

Bad Day at the Office

There are bad days. Then there are BAD days. Friday was a BAD ass day.

We had important meetings in the morning. I dressed my best. Threw on my best dress shoes that I hadn’t worn since the Christmas Party. They felt almost magically springy and soft. I was loving it. I put them on in the semi dark. When I reached the Dentist, and laid back in the chair for the numbing narcotics to take effect, I took a close look at my shoes. Much to my chagrin, my shoes had evidently dryrotted. I basically danced my shoes off at the Christmas party. The heels and soles were crushed through. Pieces of shattered exterior were falling from my shoes like confetti at a parade. I buried them that afternoon. Do ya suppose MIST has a line on guys shoes?

I was in heavy morning traffic after our meeting. The lane to the right was merging into my lane. Everyone else was dutifully letting every other car in that hadn’t gotten the merge message 400 yards back. A large SUV decided to go to the front of the line and insert himself without waiting. I don’t like this. I don’t tolerate this. I showed him in one motion that he was number one with me, and to back off and fall in line behind me. After three feints trying to scare me into slowing down and letting him in front of me, the pilons of the right lane finally closed in. He misjudged his fourth attempt at highway chicken and did the old bump and rub. At this point he finally decided that maybe he WAS FUCKING STUPID after all, and backed off. The $250 deductible for repair on my right side wasn’t worth stopping and getting into an altercation with a clearly deranged piece of humanity. Nor was the wrath of the thousand plus drivers behind us that would have been blocked completely.

After having the filling for a cavity at the dentist, they stuck the little piece of carbon in to check my bite. Tap tap tap, then grind. The results pleased the dentist, no apparent problem. I told her that something was very wrong. It didn’t feel right. Something wasn’t working here. She stuck the carbon back in. Tap Tap GRINDDDDDD. With my jaw still closed, she pulled my lips back to identify the problem. Apparently, the entire time I was grinding, I was simply chewing away on my own numbed tongue. Yeah, it left a mark.

My boss informed me upon my return from the dentist that I was to serve as the sole scapegoat for losing a four million dollar contract. Because the firm that we’re paying to provide a specific service hadn’t done that service, even having been notified that there was a specific problem.

To close out the perfect day, I pulled into the driveway at the house, turned the car off, and reached to pull my satellite radio out of the car. The mount broke and my satellite radio lost its seat on my dash. They don’t sell them separate. You have to buy the whole $40 kit.

That was my Friday. What was your worst day?

Michael