In which I remember my other-other job

51X7vJ8S0SL._SX373_BO1,204,203,200_Hopefully you can follow along: I spent the day at OtherJob, which is the golf course, but I spent it mostly concentrating on things I needed to do for OtherOtherJob, the one that barely pays anything but occupies most of my headspace all the damn time anyway: being an author.  I actually got fiction written today, for starters, which is an accomplishment of staggering proportions the way things have been going lately, and not only that but I managed to get some initial planning done on a couple of stories other than the one I am working on right now.  Which is nearly finished anyway.  And I communicated with my artist for Tales and did a bunch of preliminary investigation into various marketing things for the new book and a whole bunch of other stuff.  I may even have a release date in mind, although I’m not telling any of you about it yet.

I think I’m coming out of the last of The Fogs, that one being where I adjust to the new reality of life as a furniture salesman with ridiculous hours and find a way to cram the important bits of my life into the time that’s left.  I’m not coming home from longer shifts and wanting to die anymore, and while I need to get better about writing coherent and interesting blog posts a bit in advance so that I’m not posting three-line garbage posts at 9:30 before collapsing into bed, I can see signs of where I’m starting to get there.  I haven’t had a new book release in a while; getting this one done and out there will feel good, and once that’s done I want the next book out quick.  But we’ll see; I tend to bite off more than I can chew as far as writing fiction goes and I would really like to break that habit.

But yeah.  Hopefully this isn’t just a one-off thing, and I’m at least approaching the horse properly, if not back on it altogether.  2016 has been a garbage year so far.  Time to see if we can’t salvage what’s left.

YAY MATERIALISM

unnamed.jpgThe real bullshit about this picture is that 1) it in no way really captures the level of utter chaos my living room has descended into, while simultaneously capturing perfectly the horror that is my living room carpet; and 2) I cleaned the room when I got home yesterday.  The boy turned 5 on Tuesday and spent all day Sunday acquiring new toys from various and sundry relatives and friends; last night, we took him to the local Toys-R-Us to spend a couple of gift cards and some birthday cash he got.

We, uh, probably should have parceled that shit out over a couple of months or something.  Dude has so many new presents that he hasn’t even taken everything out of the packaging yet, and what with how kids’ toys are packaged nowadays our recycling bin is already overflowing with over a week left until they come pick it up again.  Today is my day off and I’m hiding in the office rather than dealing with the mess; he probably ought to at least help and I just don’t have any Goddamn idea where to put any of the crap anyway.

tl;dr I am fortunate enough that my kid having too many people who love him and want to give him stuff is a problem.

Note that I am not unaware that every single book on a shelf behind all those toys is mine.  He’s a kid; he’s gonna take as many toys as he can get people to give him.  I have no excuse for the vast quantities of crap I’ve accumulated over the years.  The difference is I have places to put my shit.

Oh and also I pay for the mortgage so shut up.


I have, in general, been mostly trying to avoid writing about the election here, which accounts for some, but not all, of the shorter posts lately– if my options are “write about the election” and “not write much” I’ve been choosing the latter far more often than the former, especially since I have Twitter to be militant on anyway.  But this story is too insane to be believed– that Donald Trump’s political organization is so insanely incompetent that, with the rest of today and one business day until the deadline on Monday, Trump isn’t on the ballot in Minnesota yet.

Take a minute and think about how utterly shit you have to be at running things for that to happen.  And people are going to vote for this hairsack.  I mean, I know, I get it– he’s not actually interested in being president and the whole campaign is a grift.  He has no campaign staff, no boots on the ground, no organization, no nothing.  He’s not really running.  I know.  But shit, he’s not even trying to look like he’s taking this seriously.

Do not do any Google searches based on this post

In fact, have a fluffy kitten from my Instagram account:

Screen Shot 2016-08-22 at 9.05.42 PM.pngThis adorable kitteh has adopted my parents and we’re trying to decide who’s taking him for real.  I really really want to except for the part where I already have an elderly cat and an elderly dog and I’m really not sure how kindly either of them will take to a new younger cat.  So maybe we won’t make him ours.  Or maybe we will.  I dunno.

So my middle toe on my right foot is rotting off.  I clipped my toenails last Sunday and managed to fuck it up on my middle toe and it bled a little bit.  Monday night the sky exploded and my basement filled with water or at least part of it did and I spent who knows how long wading in Ebola water barefoot.  Then my toe started changing colors and shit and the doctor I went to see yesterday got to say things to me like “Oh, yeah, you’re gonna lose all the skin there” and “it’s probably not MRSA,” only she spelled MRSA out, like emm-arr-ess-ay, and who the hell does that?

And then she gave me a broad-spectrum antibiotic to take, and explained carefully that there was only a little chance that my penicillin allergy meant that I was also allergic to this drug also, and even if I was well I just had a rash the last time I had penicillin, when I was five, so I probably won’t die if I have something like penicillin today.  

On the plus side, I know how to field dress a middle toe now, but I’d rather not know that and still have ten toes and none of them rotting.  Instead I have nine good toes and one rotting one and it’s not fun.  I walked fifteen thousand steps today, by the way.

Yeah.