Gray Skies in Burlington

I can't, at the moment, actually see the skies but they're gray. Rain, it rains from all around and soaketh soft into the ground. Clouds so full of rain they overflow their fluffy whiteness, past the colours of the rainbow, till they spill the moisture onto the earth below them. Perhaps there will be whiteness in the clouds once more but not in the forseeable future. As long as there isn't whiteness on the ground, most of us will be happy.

Puzzled

I'm sitting here in an office, pretending to be an office worker. The usual -postage machine, copy machine, computer machine, courier sending which uses the aforementioned computer machine, phone machine - it's pretty much all machine-oriented. Not that it's unfamiliar territory to moi but it's fatigue-making in the extreme and not providing quite enough to hold body and soul together. Wait, is that my soul I see hovering above my chipped and worn desk? Maybe. This company is in its death-throes. Closing at year's end (and a Happy New Year to all loyal employees of long-standing) and I am here to postpone mine as I participate in the company's demise.

This three month period of treading water and not buying food follows a nearly six month period of not buying food. Thank goodness for friends who feel it necessary to provide nourishment in spite of my protestations. Thank goodness for friends, period.

It seems to me that there is change in the air. Or somewhere. I dearly want to publish a post that describes my glorious exaltation at the life I now lead. The life I will be leading when I write that sentence; it's not entirely accurate at the moment. Okay, it's not at all accurate but it will be. As all of you are my witnesses. So, where are you all, anyway?

What if the large lady doesn't get to sing?

Does that mean it ain't over? Cold and harsh reality is that yours truly only has a month or so until either a miracle occurs (oh, look, a pretty light) or the operatic person gets to belt out a song. The suckage and blowage of this stark scenario can't really be measured on any sort of scale. It's probably best if you simply take my word for it.

Should there be any wondrous change, you'll read it here. If not, I'll be sure to say 'adios' before the final day is done. Just for the record, I am not suffering from any sort of depression or delusions, only a very, very difficult life. Humour is one of my closest allies, along with his buddy, Ridiculousness. Things can change in a heartbeat and sometimes those changes are amazing and wonderful. Here's wishing that for everyone. Cheers.

'Free' sheet music downloads?

Not.  Contrary to the claims that one can download sheet music for millions of songs for free, it seems that 'free' means 'pay us  now'.  Not that I mind paying; I just don't  enjoy being misled.  Don't particularly enjoy being led, either, but that's a different story.

 

Rating high on the 'grrrr' meter is the fact that a lot of the music I need is not available at all.  Well, I don't enjoy that very much, which will come as no surprise to anyone.

 

In summary, I am suffering disgruntlement but I am sure there's a pill to alleviate this condition, as there surely seems to be for everything else.  Disgruntle-mints, perhaps?

   

 

 

Less hot?

There is a marginal improvement in the weather and I no longer feel that I could cook an egg on my head if I were foolish enough to wander outside.  Not that I ever wanted to do this but it would have been possible two days ago.  Those of us who are only partially melted at this time say 'thank you'.  Not sure to whom but we say it regardless.

You know it's hot when....

You have no strength to move or grunt (as I just wrote to a friend) for hours at a time.  Even when there is grunting, it has no real life to it.  More like heavy exhalation with a bad attitude.

 

Almost fifty degrees out there.  Hard to believe.  Even harder to endure.  Just think how ecstatic we'll be when it's only thirty degrees again.  Woo hoo.  And we used to think that thirty was too hot.  Now we'll be covering up and shivering and looking for jackets.  Uh, sure, in bizzaro world.

 

Melting?

At what heat point does a regular person go the way of the Wicked Witch of the West from the Oz fable? Must be around the forty-something degree Celsius mark. Oh, right, we passed that some time ago. Where's my witch's hat?

Re-inspired

Re-perspired as well.  The re-inspiration comes from a friend who is always there for me and who shares my sense of ridiculosity (yes, it's okay to fabricate words when you have a firm grasp on proper usage) and the need for peace in all things.

 

The re-perspiration comes from yet another heat wave that there is simply no surfboard large enough to confront.  Riding a heat wave might prove to be more perilous than practical so I'll content myself with riding out the bubbles in a cool bathtub.  No kowabunga pour moi.  Shudders delicately at the thought.

 

My life is about to hit the crisis suggested by the name of my blog.  That's just about as close to something disgusting hitting the proverbial fan as you can get.  Makes for interesting mind-questing.  Of course, we must try our very best to make the most of the lives we're given.  Sometimes, though, it makes no difference whatsoever what we do.  Our destinies are out of our hands and all we can do is be as prepared as we can when the big D arrives.  I'd say the big F (for fate, as opposed to destiny) but that sounds a little too much like the profanity that is, indeed, forming in my mind.

 

 

  

Maybe it's my imagination

Subject: Life

 

Status: Almost Unbearable

 

Prognosis: Highly Questionable

Typos

Almost as funny as signs which have been altered by passersby with humourous bents.

 

In a recent email to a friend who has been ill for some time, I wished her well on her toad to recovery.  Meant 'road', obviously.  The visual is a strong one and I keep pushing away the mental picture of anyone travelling the toad to wellness.  Of course, I'm easily amused. 

Painful pronunciations

How many times is the letter 'g' found in the word 'luxury'? What's that? None? Absolutely correct. Why is it, then, that it is almost universally pronounced 'lugsury'? As if it were some hideous new age disease that causes death by lazy speech as it renders use of the vocal instrument superfluous. Sigh.

Hilarious signs

Today I stopped in a small park area, overlooking the lake.  It has a very steep and rocky drop down to the water, with a large yellow sign attesting to that fact.

 

Some local wag has taken it upon him/herself to alter same.  Instead of warning passersby of the danger, it now reads 'Dang Steep Hill'.  I sat and laughed uncontrollably for some time.  Who says creativity does not exist in our society?

Hey, thanks

This is for the people who have taken the time to leave their names on my site.  Thank you, Park Ranger, for your interesting stories.  Your fierce protectiveness of the envrionment is deeply moving and your down-to-earth sense of humour and understanding of human nature are laudable.  There was no way to leave a comment on your site so, this will have to do.

 

And to you, joey, your site is unreachable and/or unfindable and maybe other people have had difficulty in locating it.  Thought you might like to know.  Thanks for letting me know what you think of my musings. 

Midnight Water Passing

Further to my soundproofing entry, there is nothing I can do about the sound leakage from the above apartment and there is a chance I may lose my freakin' mind.

 

Last night, there was a very loud party going on over top of my bedroom  It lasted all night long.  At five this morning, I got up and took a gravol, which gave me a couple of hours of semi-sleep before my phone rang (something that never happens before noon) at eight thirty.

 

Add to sleep deprivation the fact that water pipes are connected and there is a huge echo effect.  It seems that there were many healthy men, possessed of capacious bladders, at the party.  One after another, they emptied said beer receptacles, often taking more than a full minute of crashing waterfall effects.  I confess I had to stick my fingers in my ears to drown out the deafening sound.  The recycling of fluids was almost without break. 

 

If I sound a tad fractious, it is with good reason.  I've lost a full day's productivity and suffered endlessly through some westernized form of water torture.  On a scale of one to ten, I feel about minus a hundred.  That can't be a good thing. 

It's Another One

Happy New Year.  Didn't we just say that a month ago?  It was fun in Chinatown yesterday and celebration was everywhere.  I'm all for the festivities, no matter what the occasion.  As long as we all remember that language abuse will still be frowned upon, partying is all to the good.  This excludes well-chosen profanity, of course.

 

 

Dark Ponderings

Ever have a time in your life that was so bleak and black and hopeless, there seemed no point to it at all?  Maybe there have been many instances.  Ever string all these times together to make a metaphorical black pearl necklace you can never remove?  Kind of like a tattoo that starts on the skin and etches itself all the way down to the nooks and crannies of your DNA?

 

Positive, life-affirming thoughts are all very well but they don't always make any sort of difference to your life itself.  A good attitude is always preferable to a bad one.  Period.  However, really bad lives can happen to people who have grace, dignity and wit.  They can happen to people who are honest and kind.  They can happen to people who clearly deserve better.  They can happen.

 

 

Language Mangling. Again.

It seems the epidemic runs unchecked and I, for one, am aghast.  The latest glaring and widespread misuse has to do with forbidding.  Watch any dreadful television show and you will hear someone forbidding someone else 'from' doing something.  Seriously, Actor/Actress #1 says to Actor /Actress #2 "I forbid you from doing that". 

 

If that sort of hideous breakdown in language usage is not enough to give a person instant apoplexia, I don't know what is.  Did I say 'seriously' yet?  It may bear repeating.

 

For the purposes of clarification, I have to say that one forbids someone to do something or go somewhere.  In the immortal words of Ricky Ricardo, ay yi yi yi yi. 

 

 

 

 

Full Moon & Soundproofing

No, I'm not talking about the rubber room and the fashionable white jacket with the very long sleeves that wrap around and tie at the back.  Both could be considered relevant but not in this instance.

 

The fact is, the full moon affects me strongly.  Exhaustion, yes, check the box beside that one.  Nausea, general malaise, dizziness; check those boxes, too.  Not particularly interesting except that these symptoms are preventing my construction of a soundproof partition.  (It's starting to make sense now, isn't it?)

 

Why do I need a soundproof partition?  That sounds like the title for a school essay, in the same genre as 'Where I went for my summer vacation'.  Yet, it is not.  I need the partition so that my neighbours - and I use the term loosely - cannot hear my music and I can hear them less than I do now.  

 

It comes back full circle to the exhaustion thing.  Too tired to soundproof and need to soundproof because I'm so tired.  Maybe when the moon is waning I'll be able to wax poetically about my sound situation.  It could happen.  

How Difficult Can It Be?

When annoying refrains play over and over in my tiny mind, I can't help but wonder how much empty space is in there. Really, if there's room for a song or expression to play over and over and over and over, we must be talking about a football field of air in my head. Ah, air in the head - hence the expression 'airhead'. So much becomes clear in the dark time of the day. In spite of the lack of light. Paradoxical.

Still wondering, how tough can it be to replace one endless loop in the mind with another. You're then stuck with the second repeating phrase or tune but, at least you put that one there on purpose. Tough or not, you have made your point. All of the sports figures taking up space in your stadium of the mind can get out there and do something to earn their keep. Sports figures. My mind needs to be disinfected. However, this is a 'family' show. Let's stick to any sort of ball game and I won't even crack a smile. I am, after all, a grownup.

Light therapy for SAD?

In actual fact, heavy therapy may be required. The past 16 days have yielded a full four and a half hours of daylight. Soaking up the sunshine becomes a dim and distant memory with stats like that. Of course, Seasonal Affective Disorder doesn't affect everyone - just those who look outside. For those pained souls, a light panel may be the only path to remaining sane. If that's a choice.

Warming to my theme; a heavy panel may work even more effectively. I may lie underneath one (how many people make up a panel these days?) until the weather becomes bright and festive. Wait, festive is over already. Okay, maybe just until there is a wondrous change of life events. God help me, I may be flattened by then.