Howdy doody. Happy New Year. I hope 2013 finds you as well as could be expected and ready for another 365 days of fighting crime/conquering new worlds/just getting by or turning down Nobel prizes because, ‘it’s not about the money and fame’.
Good fortune to you whatever you do. (This does not apply if you sell arms, drop bombs, pedal heroin or indulge in any of the other myriad behaviours I have deemed a Bad Thing. If this is the case I wish you speedy career/personality/behaviour reform and a lack of success in your current malfeasance.)
So, how am I? That’s the important question here after all. This is all about me, me, me and me. If me is not your thing you’re obviously at the wrong blog. This is mine.
Not bad is the boring old answer. Not terrible either but not bad.
I still don’t drink. That’s a good un. For a lot of addicts Christmas is a tough time but for me – because my drinking was a secret shame – spending time with family generally means I’m less tempted to drink. I’m still on the medications of many colours (tediously most of them are plain old white, although mirtazapine is – in a used of potentially damaging food colourings about which I can be quite a bore given half a chance – a not that fetching orangey red), so I can’t.
I’ve slipped back a little on my meditating. Missed quite a few days now. Not good, must do better. I will. I promise.
Because Mag’s at home I haven’t smoked dope either.
I’m still going to Tai Chi but I did miss a couple of sessions in December. Personality and chronology experts looking for a reason might spot the conjunction of the aforementioned Tai Chi sagging will consult the house calendar and note that Mag was away. Any old excuse. I’d also promised to start playing football again, but didn’t. The weather was a slightly better excuse in this case but marijuana was also taken.
Counselling starts up again on January 9. I need to do my homework.
Really, I feel I need to make a lot of changes and am still struggling to make them. To that end we approach THE SHELVES OF DESTINY.
The Shelves of Destiny are – at this writing – yet to manifest in the physical realm. They are important. They are important because putting up shelves in the spare room, my – ahem – office, will be a big thing for me. Already I’m dissipating and dispersing my energy – library books (now overdue of course) are piled up loaded with good intentions, hobbies, self-help. The Shelves of Destiny will help me clear up my, ahem, office, which will help me sort out my papers and so on and so on.
I’m frustrated you see. I want to leap out of bed full of life and I don’t. I want to work a good eight hours a day then indulge in rewarding interests, but I don’t. The Shelves of Destiny are symptomatic of good intentions gone to seed.
The plan is to do them tomorrow. I have to go to hospital for a chest scan (I’m still not really right, another frustration) and can drive past the wood shop on the way home. There’s a lot of other things I want to do too.
Part of the plan is to write this every day, but we’ve heard that before haven’t we? (Note to self, stop writing like that).
So, hopefully, see you tomorrow.
If you spent it, thank you for your time.
Messages, threats, criticism and bouquets are all gratefully received in the comments.