Eight Feet Deep

I’m looking for part-time work today. The demon tech writing job and what little stringing I’m doing isn’t getting fresh fruit in the basket (I can only afford to buy the old fruit. Ever eaten a really old plum? Don’t.)

Just now I did some quick math. I stopped getting haircuts almost eight years ago, going instead for the cue-ball head look (Obviously, the guy in the picture is not me.) I also stopped smoking five years ago. I figure I have saved $1,920 on haircuts and likewise save $7,400 on smoking (Yes, I’m sad to say I smoked two packs a day. Yes, I’m sad to say I have this parentheses affliction this morning.)

Actually, saving is not what I did at all. For if I had actually saved the money that had been spent on haircuts and smoking, I would have more than $9,300-plus interest. Instead, well … Saving. Right!

It’s on with the search. I applied for a part-time data entry job with the U.S. Postal Service. It sounds positively dreadful. But the money sounds nice. I’m still looking though. I guess I should say in being true to the song by Rush: “They call me the look for working man.” I guess that’s what I am.

I don’t normally perk up over celebrity gossip. But the news that Sheryl Crow and Lance Armstrong broke up kind of interested me. One reason is that Lance is such an icon here in Texas and the other reason is that Sheryl is … well, she is just so fine … With that in mind, I recall Sheryl’s song “A Change Would Do You Good.” It’s certainly peppy, sort of biting and its premise is right in a lot of respects when a change might do you good. With that said, I welcome Fred Allen’s saying to my EFD flag. I think it’s funny. But then, do you really care what I think?

I couldn’t tell you how many Web impressions, how many times EFD has been clicked upon, since I started using StatCounter back in (I guess)July or so. I guess I can look. Maybe it’s something close to 10,000. I don’t care. It really doesn’t mean much. What is interesting is StatCounter’s tool, which I have mentioned before here, that allows me to find out from where my visitors originate.

It is interesting, of course, to find out people in this foreign country or that is taking a look at an otherwise extremely obscure Texas blog. But what I find most interesting is my friends and acquaintances — at least those whom I think from my Web tool are those I know — who regularly or at least semi-regularly visit EFD. For instance, I’ve mentioned Sally in Mass., or Suzie in Arkansas, both are longtime friends. They also check in quite often. Stalkers!!! Only kidding. Occasionally, there is Navarro whom I knew under a different handle in college at Steve (Stephen F. Austin State U.) A couple of people sneak a peak from work, one is a local friend whose name I won’t mention just because I don’t want to get her into trouble. I see someone from the same corporation she works for, but with a different server from Houston who visits quite frequently. Interestingly enough, I think that may be John in San Antonio, but I’m not sure.

What is sure is my closest friends, no matter how much they read the crap I put out day after day on this blog, will be the first to remind me to not let my alligator ego override my hummingbird ass. Don’t worry. With 4-5 returning visitors a day to this blog, I don’t think that is a concern.

But it is interesting that friends or people I tangentially know read this blog regularly. That is because I offer nothing really in the way of news. Most times I hardly offer any insightful commentary. Mostly it’s just me talking s**t. But I enjoy it. I enjoy the fact my friends tune in regularly. It puzzles me kind of, but I think it’s pretty cool. Now, I just wish people I don’t know would start sending me money for no reason. That’d be pretty strange. Maybe it wouldn’t be so good. But you never know until you fry an egg. What?? Try. That’s it. You never know until you try. Sorry I have been obsessing over agriculture lately with a project. So until next time: BAAAHHHHHHH, MOOOOOOOOOOO, and hope your rumen feels better out in that new pasture.

Just after noon I decided to take a walk. I was wearing shorts and a T-shirt. I passed this guy I see sometimes on my walks who lives on Evalon. He had on shorts but wasn’t wearing a shirt. And he commented about how nice a day it was. I agreed. It must’ve been 70-something. Then an hour or two later, I’m working away and I decide to step outside. It’s cool. Now it’s something like 48 or so with the North wind blowing. How could this happen? Spring to winter in a matter of minutes.

Well, of course it is a cold front because it is early February. But no matter how many times I experience a cold front, especially what we call “Blue Northers” here, I always am kind of fascinated and attracted to it. That sure doesn’t happen to me with a warm front. I don’t know why the fascination. I guess because I’ve lived near the Gulf coast most of my life and it really doesn’t get really cold that often here. That isn’t to say it doesn’t get cold because it does.

Perhaps it is change in the cold front that I find appealing. That’s kind of ironic because arthritis has made me a human barometer, or at least that is how it seems. I don’t know but I’ve always had a change jones. I like new experiences, new places, new tastes. I once had a girlfriend tell me: “You know, you’re never happy with what you have.” And you know what? Despite all the other bulls**t she foisted off on me, she was certainly right about that.

How does this day suck. Let me count the ways.

Ever have one of those days in which life is just one big pile o’ crap after another? That has been my day. It has sucked so badly that it’s almost funny. Almost.

It started out with the muscle relaxers from hell. Well, let me back up. I got my MRI results yesterday at the VA doctor. I’ve got bulging discs at C-3/4 and C-7/T-1 with stenosis. I’ve been referred to a VA orthopod (orthopede? orthoped?)in Houston. God only knows how long it will be before I see a specialist. So my doctor prescribed these muscle relaxers. The generic is called tizanadine and it’s pretty strong. The problem is that they made me feel dizzy and just generally crappy. Well, no wonder. The VA nurse takes my blood pressure and its 90/60. That’s low for me. The doctor says to take only a half of this relaxer on steroids (not really–that’s just an expression that’s overused. don’t ever, ever, let me catch me using it again. okay? okay.)But even with half a tizanadine this morning my BP is 90/60. I must be dead but I ain’t stinking, if you know what I mean. You don’t? Oh well, it doesn’t really matter. So I call the VA and things just went downhill from there, suffice it to say. And a couple of freelance gig rejections later, here I am.

I finally had to just stop working on my project from hell (like muscle relaxers from hell on steroids)and have a glass of life is a Cabernet. That’s French for something or other. Anyway, tomorrow will be a better day or I will eat this blog. Say what??? Okay, maybe I’ll just, like, sulk and bitch and moan if tomorrow is not better. Kind of like I did today.