Outliers (Outlander!)

“Too smart for your own good
Too sweet, too logical
Statistics round your head
Tried to teach me about baseball
My favorite was the part when they make it home
I like it when they steal, and when they make it home”
-Conor Oberst and the Mystic Valley Band. One of My Kind. 2012.

We’ve already knocked two and a half months off of the 2023 calendar. Time has a funny way of speeding along as we grow older. Sometimes you notice. Sometimes not. The last few months have certainly flown by quicker than I would have liked. Went back to work (post-surgery). I did not miss it. The people I missed, yes. If you’re stuck somewhere for 8 hours or more at a time, it’s ideal to be surrounded by like minded folks. Good ones at that. Working nights and being too mentally and physically fried during the day is a bit yucky. A change in pace is welcomed, sure, but if I had it my way, going back to work wouldn’t be the way to do it. Alas, our wonderful health care system demands that I have health insurance. Also, apparently bills do not pay themselves. Just a helpful tip for those of you who weren’t sure.

There isn’t much new to report on the cancer front. Tests here and there. Stents replaced in the ducts. The new chemotherapy regimen is set to start next week. I am certainly not comfortable just floating around in limbo but that’s the way of things for now. I think if limbo had better seating, then my disposition would probably be a little better. These cushions need a good fluffing.

I do, however, greatly appreciate the kind words, thoughts, and well wishes. It has never been easy for me to be open about — well — anything. Last entry took a little prodding but we got there. As it always is, the future is fuzzy. A blur. Anything can be right around the corner and none of us are ever prepared. We lie to ourselves often and think we are but we aren’t. And that’s okay.

To be honest, I try to keep from looking too far ahead. And that’s nothing new. Obviously, now, things are different and with that comes a lot of different thoughts. But I’ve always tried to keep my focus on the now. Or at least as close as I can get. If you let the present get out of control and crumble, then what kind of a future are you setting up for yourself? Sure, some days aren’t the best. We all go through that. I do. Often. But the only way out is to go forward. And maybe get a snack along the way.

I’ve been diving into a lot of mob films and television lately. Goodfellas. Casino. The Irishman. The Sopranos. The culture is fascinating to me. I certainly don’t want to glorify any of it — it’s just done a terrific job at holding my fragile attention. And it helped get the gears turning a little for a project that I’ve had simmering on the back burner.

I chuckled a little writing that last part. I’ve been thinking a lot about self-sabotage lately. Even as I work on this, my body is trying to push me away. It happens every time I sit down to write. Eyes get really heavy. My thoughts drift. The world slows down and gets blurry. I feel like I could put my head on the desk and fall right to sleep. But I guarantee the second I move my attention away from this (or whatever I’m doing), those symptoms subside and I’m back to whatever my weird version of normal is. There has got to be a name for it, right? Something clinical and fancy (I hope).

That bit above was cut short because I got too tired and couldn’t put together a coherent thought. Was I actually tired? No. Does any of this make sense? No. The project I’ve had on the back burner has already found its way back there. It’ll sit. And wait. And wave occasionally.

So the news is just jam packed with awesome stories. UFOs. Toxic train derailments. Schools being shot up. The eternal dick measuring contests among our brave and brilliant politicians. Everyone completely ignoring the whole ‘separation of church and state’ thing. Possibly on the verge of WW3. I don’t know, man. I think we may need to get some new writers for this show. I’m not really digging any of it.

That’s all for now. I’ll see you next week. Or next month. Or next year. We never know.