Laundry Day - Loose Ends and Frayed Seams

Today was not all that bad. There were several moments of measurable, if not significant, progress and I was productive overall. There were some events that had been anticipated but were not as disappointing or dismal when they did occur. I am in good spirits.

The least satisfying was finding that my business partner and I did not win a very worthwhile bid on a contracted job. As the outcome was decided on whim more than on the original criteria under which we bid, I find I have some expectations that we may actually have been favored by not winning the contract. We might, in fact, have dodged a painful and likely expensive bullet of working against a shifting standard and expectations. The downside is we both so NEEDED that bid to be ours. We are both in a hard-pressed and pretty dire set of circumstances that only money remedies.

We are both scrambling to make our bills for the end of this month/beginning of next. It will be harrowing to say the least. But, this might afford me other opportunities. I certainly remain optimistic but I would rather have the "problems"associated with too much success rather than hardly any at all as is presently the case.

Several irons are now in the fire and two have been in just long enough to be warming to a cheery glow. Both were initiated by others to include me. I am a willing partner rather than instigator (in some online projects) with one friend and composing and playing music with another. The creative juices are making a tenuous attempt at returning and I am still more of a spectator than participator in their struggles to stand under their own power. I am enjoying this but so longing to be earning a living wage. All ideas to this point have flickered but not caught fire, sadly.

So, this was a deliberate effort to not sound like I am waiting only to die and cursing each breath. I am regrouping and gaining strength to REALLY complain another day! still no real companions and only obligations but I press on.

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Laundry Day, No. 3, Lost in the Wash.

I'm taking inventory and taking my lumps, today. It seems I got the answer to one of the little mysteries in my life and it wasn't at all what I expected. Not too many things catch me ill-prepared, anymore. A friend has informed me we are very different people. That was the extent of the message and I presume I am to conclude that is all the message they feel compelled to offer. It is likely the last I will hear from them, as well. Very sad. [Update: All is not lost but this person isn't in the mood to hand-hold Mr. Needy, right now]

I could ramble on about that but it changes nothing. I am just surprised that every point at which I can not imagine there being a lower depth to discover or a more hollow core to my being something like this reveals the bottom has yet to be found.

There was a time that I was more acceptable in writing than in person. That is either in the process of being reversed or now I am unacceptable in any form of expression. Again, not something I'd care to explore. I am utterly alone. I have new regard and empathy and compassion for shut-ins, homeless, and, imprisoned folk. Perhaps that is partially why I am experiencing all that has befallen me? I remain open to the possibility.

I doubt I was found righteous, as Job, and am therefore being tested to prove my virtue. Whatever the cause, I do hope the lesson is being brought to a conclusion, soon. I will not curse God and die. He always gets the blame for our actions while we take His praise when things go well. I am awaiting the conversation He intends to have with me when I am suitably pliable and softened enough to listen. One thing I am convinced I have brought away from all of this is to indeed "Be anxious for nothing." I whine and complain a lot in these posts but time and again I am simply proving what the Bible already made clear: do not put your trust in men or this world or the things of this life. They are all wood, hay, and stubble. They are vapors, today here and tomorrow not even a memory. None of that is intended to be gloomy or depressing. But the ease with which people dismiss and disregard one another is bitter.

Prior to all of my trials was a scripture verse that was brought to my attention too many times to be a coincidence. I have a high IQ - I am not stupid and I am not a fool. I do stupid and foolish things but I am not delusional. I know God is, and that He speaks to anyone willing to listen. He speaks to me - not in any way contradictory to how He speaks to others. He refers to scriptures and I don't merely grab a verse and run with it. That's how cults and psychopaths function but I do not take the reference out of context. The verse He gave me over and over was Psalms 7:9, "Oh let the wickedness of the wicked come to an end; but establish the just: for the righteous God trieth the hearts and reins." (KJV) I believe I was given a "heads up," a warning before everything came crashing down. Since that chapter was emphatically underlined for this time in my life here is what has transpired:

1. My career tanked
2. I was confirmed ADHD (with a cherry on top) which explained some things but that was used so that:
   
3. My wife divorced me
4. All of my friends, except for three, turned on me and only a handful have returned
5. I have not seen my children in over three years
6. My church assisted in the destruction of my family and reputation and after the smoke cleared asked me if I thought THEIR reputation had been sullied
7. I have been audited by the Internal Revenue Service and still owe thousands of dollars
   
8. I filed bankruptcy and then was left holding the bag after the divorce
9. I, consequently, suffered a foreclosure and loss of all property and credit
10. My failed credit filtered me out of my chosen profession and any well-paying other types of employment
11. I lost my temper at the only job at which I could maintain a reasonable standard of living and was fired
12. I became homeless
13. Had two cars literally self-destruct - leaving me without transportation
14. Became a truck driver and was removed from all familiar social contact
    
15. Have been on a leave without pay for five months with an unexplained, one-time health event, feeling useless and purposeless ( to join clueless)
    
16. Have been run around for that same period by doctors who have found nothing wrong but won't clear me to return to work
17. Have been turned down for all employment I have tried to secure in order to supplement myself until I may return to work
18. Have never been more alone or isolated in my entire life

It is remarkable, even to itemize on paper. As I said, I do not claim to be the character of a Job but it appears that is not my decision to make. By the grace of God he allowed my family to be taken away but not killed as happened to Job. This has been going on for over five years and there are no mile markers to help determine where I am in the journey. I could still be near the beginning for all I know. So that's the "hearts" part of the verse. What is that word, "reins?"

As it so happens, the word used in the King James version - "reins" is translated "kidneys." Guess what? I have several issues with my kidneys, as well. Of course I do, because God doesn't stutter and He doesn't skip the details. The cool thing (I imagine) about being God is that you don't have to embellish your words. I am a major stone former. I had had my first bout with kidney stones back at ages 19 to 21. I formed multiple stones - six in each kidney at any instance. These were not tiny things. No grains of sand for ADDhole. The average length of one of my stones is, 10mm, and the girth, 6.5mm (25/64ths of an inch x 1/4 of an inch) and to have a dozen of those at any given time makes for some developed endurance for pain. The peculiar thing about the male nervous system is its specific ability to target and identify pain. I can measure, by pain alone, the size and position of a stone from the time it forms in my kidney all the way through the urinary tract. I had made some dietary and stress-related changes and had not really suffered much in the way of a recurrence until - TADA! - all of these other events transpired. I also developed hypertension and it is always fun to answer the questions asked by doctors as to whether I have experienced anything recently that has added stress to my life. So now I am being monitored for an observed but not identified cause for the increase in my creatinine levels - a measure of damage to the kidneys. It's nominal but going in the bad direction. Ain't life grand???

I'm recording all of this because I need to recall and remember and reassess. I have been hit hard, with precision. There is nothing accidental about this. I am miserable but I am not suffering beyond my endurance or limits. I am not being asked to bear too much. That is important to recognize. I have also had the benefit of friends NOT like Job's. At least not to my face - no one has accused me of anything. I don't like what is going on but I can't cry foul, either. I do not believe that as bad as all of this has been and still is that it is going to be used to destroy me. It hurts - but who is spared pain? Besides, pain tells the immune system where the problem is that needs attention. I have to believe the same thing happens in the spiritual. I also can not overlook the word in that verse, "tries." That is a reference to the refining of metals. A clump of material is tried in the fire until the impurities are burned away and the metal becomes fluid. For precious metals the refiner knows when the metal is pure and free of crud (dross) when he looks into the molten mass and sees his own face reflected. If that is what's happening to me then how can I give up when all I want to do is shine? I have to consider that the things I hold to so tightly may not be anything but dross. If I am being tried for my integrity then nothing other than what He has designed me to be must be allowed to remain. By being torn apart and turned inside out I am actually being made whole.

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Laundry Day - No. 2, Anticipation Is Making Me Wait

It’s time for another post of odds and ends. I’ve been distracted – having all of my energies diverted to the decorating of another blog. I’d tell you about it but then I would betray my secret identity. Besides, Blogger’s robots decided I was generating a spam blog and locked me out until at least the end of the business week. Many objectionable remarks spewed from my lips when I found that I could not even edit the layout. That almost formed the basis of my next post but then the angry/whiny thing has been done way too much in the short life of this little internet wall of graffiti.

So good citizens of Earth, I am back. I do have my loyal tribe of regular readers to consider. (I think I may have all of four regularly reading and even commenting.) Today I will simply get a few things out into space.

I am still without work. That’s now been four months.

At least I’m losing weight.

I have all the time in the world to exercise and otherwise tweak and improve me – Nope. Against my religious beliefs, apparently.

Like Jerry Lewis has France, I have my most loyal following in South Africa. I win twice, because:

1 - France sucks which South Africa well knows, and,
2 - I’m not Jerry Lewis.

I win three times because the people I’m hearing from and reading about on their own blogs from South Africa are either sadistic axe murderers disguising their true personalities through fictitious blog posts or really nice people. (I have my suspicions about Luke . . .) A truly wizened man would direct the authorities to keep closer tabs on Helen. Women can’t be that nice; can they?

A related bone of contention – there have been several more visitors than have bothered to comment on anything. I believe that proper blog etiquette includes making even the most gratuitous of comments upon visiting someone’s blog so that they know there are real live people checking them out. Also, scroll down a page when you visit and see if there may have been something placed there with just you in mind. I think people skim too much. Now, on my site that is understandable because I write way too much.

Continuing to write way too much and too much information . . .

I have had a protruding callous develop on my right index finger that became a bunker to hide a small plantar wart from my fastidious personal hygiene regimen. I have attacked it with acid again and again. Finally, today I had enough and declared open season. After a refreshing and seldom performed ritual of a soak in a hot tub (Hey! I shower usually, just so you know) I attacked the weakened structure of that callous with a good coarse metal file. Yes I did. I took that sucker down and hopefully out for good. No underlying bone or soft tissue was harmed in the rasp attack. Why would I do that? Because I am left-handed I have always felt more comfortable playing stringed instruments opposite the norm. Imagine that . . . just another way in which I go against the grain. So the reason I am not a monster guitarist was because that callous/wart was adversely impacting my barre chords. Or it could be I’m not a monster guitarist because I don’t practice. Or, never bothered to memorize the major and minor scales. Or, because every one of my guitars is right-handed or in pieces at the moment. Or, it could be I’m just lazy and undisciplined . . ? Naaah. I’m going to have to go with the wart.

Which brings us to today’s theme of anticipation making me wait. There are so many areas of my life where if the ball had bounced another way the difference would be phenomenal. Now I am not one to subscribe to being a victim of Fate. I used to date her younger sister, Circumstance. I have resigned myself to less in everything. All of my own doing. Nobody’s fault but mine. No big, bad woman broke my heart and left me this way and neither can a big, bad woman rescue me. I had a few small-time pricks trip me or kick me while I was down but none of that has any bearing on right now. I’m just not enthused about the living thing anymore. That’s what it comes down to at this point. I am not in anticipation of any new adventure, experience, relationship or discovery to get me all energized to get up and get busy. I’m waiting on the anticipation without any anticipation.

Pick up the guitar – nothing. Go out and see a movie? Maybe later. Exercise and get myself healthy and happy in preparation for something new? Naah. Dream up some new plan for my future? Why?

Where’s the stimulus? Where are the signs of life? I need to stumble onto something fresh because anything I manufacture seems stale. Maybe I’ll coin a new term for this. How about “postmature” ejaculation?

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Laundry Day - No. 1

There are some posts that just don't match or fit the regular format of this blog. So, just like laundry day, when you can't find a matching pair of socks and the sniff test confirms you have nothing fresh to wear, you put on whatever and start sorting what you've got.

I'll be a whole lot more inspired when the bots start picking up this blog and (hopefully) I'll be invigorated by reader responses to make it worth checking out. But until that day comes I'll start mixing things up a bit. I imagine we'll see more stuff like this laundry day post as this blog develops.

So far the T-shirt entries have been a bit of an emptying of my spleen and have been a little dark and much about the same subject. That's fine. I'm not apologizing because I am sorting things out.

Just like getting dressed each day it's easy to become predictable and get in a rut. Since the day-to-day has been without much variety then so have my blog thoughts. But that's not everything going on or all that's in my head. My personality doesn't change depending on the company I keep. I'm not a social chameleon but I am not getting very much stimuli from my environment and I'm having very little inter-personal interaction. I feel like a plant locked in a dark closet. I'm definitely not thriving.

Nonetheless, I have been happy (though miserable) that I am coming to terms with some things. I've had some satisfaction that I'm not hiding from reality and that I have some fundamental choices to make. I'm not in a position to enjoy a relationship so I've been deliberately invisible to the women I meet. It wouldn't be fair to involve myself since I can only offer a friendship without benefits. Men and women really can not pull that sort of understanding off. And even though I love spending time with women and find the experience rewarding it would be like being a gambling addict and visiting Las Vegas "just for the atmosphere" if I engaged any women in conversation. Staying away is difficult. Staying on track would be impossible if I capitulated. So instead I sleep less and complain more. This insomnia is nothing to be warm and fuzzy about, either. Instead of being in love and sleep deprived because I'm unable to get enough of that special someone's company the only company I'm keeping is with my own musings.

So imagine my surprise, that yesterday while absentmindedly playing Spider with not a thought about anything in the world, a song and lyric just fell right out of my head. I've been dry for quite a few years on the creative front. Lately, this blog has begun to pique my interest in writing a novel, but I've been unable to come up with a plot and story line to begin that process and nothing else has been very inspiring, either.

Out popped a song. And just like all of those Christmas songs, that get written in July, this song has no correlation to my thoughts or feelings at this time. It seems very interesting to explore where my conscious and subconscious have stopped speaking to each other.

Again, I really do like women. Not just the fun parts but the whole chaotic jumble of fuzzy logic associated with the critters. You'd just never guess that from stuff like this blog; or, this song I've composed:

Walk on - © copyright ADDhole, 2008

Stop to look, Son, But then keep walkin' on
You're better off alone before she leaves you alone
You're better off gone before she leads you on

Her skin is soft but her heart is stone
Your best days with her will be worse before long
Walk on, Son, in fact I think you better run

Walk on

I know she looks like she's worth her weight in gold
She'll cost you more than that - Take what you've got then steal your soul
Keep walkin' on - go on
While you're empty but whole

The way you look at me, Son, like I must be mad
I used to believe like you with everything I had
That a woman looks too good to ever be somethin' bad

While she's lying there - her hair falling all around
Her words will lie, too, while the tears fall down
She'll play you for a fool till she lays you in the ground

Walk On

I know she looks like she'll be there to have and hold
She may even promise that - Inside of her you'll be made whole
Keep walkin' on - go on
There's nothing there but just a hole

Walk on, Son, in fact I think you better run

OK, Then . . . What Do I Think This Means?
Well after evaluating the prose and patting myself on the back for the multi-faceted depth of the content I was at a true loss for explaining why those thoughts and why, "Now." But, then I decided I should cleanse the palette with a "Chick Flick" and watched "A Good Woman," starring Helen Hunt, Scarlett Johansson and Tom Wilkinson, in particular. Based on a work of Oscar Wilde's, I was so pleased with the humanity and well developed story and characters. I had never heard any of the reviews or any comments regarding this movie and I loved it. And only then did it hit me about what I have been spewing out so many words and wrestling with is an idea I have never associated with women before. I am now coming to terms with the notion that I need to accept it. That notion is that women can not be trusted but I should be able to accept that , be mindful of that; but not allow that to interfere with my relations to women.

Up until now I have held out this belief and hope that there is a distinct sect of women that are pure and virtuous creatures in whom to vest my blind faith and trust. I made the false assumption that I could associate with this pristine sample and discard the rest. But I finally recognize that there is no such animal and I need to come to terms with accepting the flawed as an alternative to abandoning them altogether. In other words, I should stop being surprised that women will hurt, will dissapoint and will fail me. The guy who always congratulated himself on not idolizing women has in fact idealized them. No wonder I am frustrated. Perhaps, I will acclimate to this new discovery and find some solace? I do not know. I now can look with the same desire for accurate assessment with which I have always sought to measure female behavior but not expect to see it improve. Sad but somehow helpful.

Well, that's what's spilled out of this pile of dirty laundry so far.

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