We’re Screwed…

It’s the 5^th of November in the year 2020.  We’re still in the middle of the latest madness that this year has had in store for us – the election of the next set of morons that we are choosing to ride this nation further into the void that this two and a half century old failed experiment has become.  Nothing makes sense anymore.  The most overwhelming condition present in modern America is hatred – pure, unbridled hatred.  They hate us and we hate them.  The two co-existing worlds of the “us” and “them” are now seen as stark photo-negatives of each other.  There is no overlap.

The “Blue Wave” seen as both imminent and necessary by the half of this country that still posses a conscience, once again, did not materialize.  Although some progress – substantially less than what was needed – came back in the now basically forgotten 2018 mid-terms, we’re currently watching a re-run of the joke that was 2016.  It is slightly different this time and might even end up with the correct outcome for the executive office although that won’t matter as the House and Senate don’t appear to be changing colors and we all know how well that worked the last time we had an actual human in the role of POTUS.  We are doomed either way.

It is looking like this airing of the shitshow that was 2016 is a special edition, however.  This year is a collaboration with an earlier disaster known as 2000.  “The 2020 Election – watch as the disappointment of 2016 is mixed in with the pure non-democratic legal shenanigans of 2000.  This’ll be the show that nobody can miss!  It’s gonna fuck your life up for the foreseeable future.”

This whole mess could have been avoided.  This whole mess should have been avoided.  I wonder what the world would be like today if the 45^th president’s last name was “Clinton?”  That almost happened – the majority of this nation’s population voted for that.  What if it was “Sanders?”  Could you imagine?  Oh, the horrors – every citizen getting treated as a citizen by the government regardless of race, free health care, honest pay for honest work, a functional government using expert advice in decision making – I mean that’s crazy.  What are we?  Human beings?

I wonder where we would be if we had a former President Gore?  There’s a case study to contemplate.  I’m not exactly sure what today would look like in that situation although I honestly do believe this country would be in a much better place.

Granted these “what if” scenarios are nothing more than pure speculation.  What we are seeing now is the “what happened” scenario and it sucks.  Why are so many people – damn near half of this nation – okay with this?  I’ve got a theory…

I was noticing in the various exit polls that the problem appears to be with religious, less educated, married, white conservatives.  They’re showing in this current election that they’re happy with the way things are.  I’m thinking that every one of those adjectives is, in a way, a limitation.  If not an explicit limitation of life, a limitation on thinking the least bit progressively.  Their situation in life puts them in a social class that, by definition, fears change.  Any change this group wants is to go backwards in time and that’s exactly what we’re doing.

I suppose the problem here is that nobody has figured out a way to successfully convince this group that change can be good.  If the last four years of seeing a clown-car full of buffoons destroying our once great nation hasn’t snapped that point home, I have no idea what could.  Perhaps a civil war?  It seems like that’s what these idiots are hoping for.

Oh, and by the way, I do not believe ultra-douche had COVID.  It was a stunt to show the cretins that like him that he’s untouchable.  Either that or his wealth-care provided him far better treatment than the normal Joe would ever get.  He did get tested constantly – I’m sure catching it quickly helped … IF he even had it.  Why couldn’t he have died…?

bis später,

Coriolis

Karma’s Return

Everything is a lie ... everything.

This country – “The Land of the Free,” that’s been implanted in our psyche since forever (considering everybody’s personal forever is equivalent to said person’s existence; and, if you were born in the states – the “united” ones, that is – this false designation has been pounded into your head since you’ve been able to retain thoughts ... but I digress – perhaps there’ll be more on that later...) – is all bullshit.  You’re not free.  Never have been; never will be.  There are some that are, but you aren’t one of ‘em.  At best, “they” are letting you exist.  We’re all slaves.

I’m sitting here at “work” writing this article.  I am not a writer and am not supposed to be writing articles at work – that’s not what they (hmm? ... there’s that “they” again...) pay me for; however, due to bureaucratic circumstances and a plethora of red-tape, I’m currently unable to log-in to the company I’m currently working with’s network.  That makes it impossible for me to do any actual work.  Not that I have any actual work to do as the work I needed to do was completed prior to my getting locked out of the system – quite lucky for the team I’m working with although it will never be realized by those in charge ... bad work gets noticed; good work is almost always undetectable.  As of now though, my fallback routine of “creating” work to do in order to pass the time is not even available.  So, I have time to kill.

So, as I was saying, we are all slaves.  Was reading this article in The Seattle Times reporting on how many passengers weren’t very happy about long bus rides caused by the “Seattle Squeeze” construction.  I haven’t been living here that long and don’t even use public transportation (Meant to and even purchased an Orca card shortly after obtaining my apartment; however, it has never been used.  My limited existence consists of being either at my apartment or at work and, since I chose to get an apartment with easy driving access to work, that’s what I do.) so I’m not exactly sure what the scale of the “Seattle Squeeze” is.  This one particular paragraph, however, got me thinking...

“Now that my bus commute time has doubled, there is no way for me to spend eight hours on the clock at work, pick up my daughter in West Seattle on time, and avoid the $1/minute late fee the day care charges,” Lynne wrote in an email. She now works through lunch to leave earlier and still ends up doing some work in the evenings at home, she said.

That is so American.  Most specifically, the “spend eight hours on the clock at work” sentence.  The thing is that we’ve somehow decided that, in order to – I don’t know ... “justify”, perhaps? – that we should be allowed to live, we need to forfeit eight hours of five days each week pretending to be productive.  Hell, lately those 40-hour work weeks are often not enough - with the current costs of housing and basic living expenses, many are forced to work multiple jobs just to pay the bills.  But it’s all bullshit.

The strangest thing about it is that “they” aren’t in this trap.  “They” do basically nothing.  “They”, however, have arranged it so that “they” have complete control over distribution of resources to us – the slaves.  Have you ever realized that the jobs that actually require somebody to be actively working for eight hours a day are the ones that “they” pay the least for?  The “professionals” working the high-pay jobs are working far less than those grinding through minimum-wage jobs day in and day out.  I know this – I am a professional.  I’m also currently writing this article while on the clock.  This, however, is not my job.

Okay, so everything above was written a bit over a year ago.  Never bothered completing nor posting this rambling as I do realize that nobody reads my blog anymore.  I do, however, find it interesting that the point I was trying to get to last year has basically been proven without any doubt this year – the year that has become analogous to pure madness – 2020.

Early this morning, the douchebag that this country was stupid enough to actually allow obtain the title of POTUS “tweeted” (that’s right, this asshat “tweets”) that he and his wife tested positive for COVID-19.  This, my friends, was the best news I’ve heard in a long time.  I’ve been wondering what happened to karma – seems like somebody’s been holding her hostage for quite a while now.  Looks like she’s making some progress at escaping.  I’m all for her returning fully and will welcome her back with open arms when that motherfucker dies.  Oh, please let him die!

You see, the “they”s that I was speaking of last year are the only people that modern-day Republicans are willing to recognize as humans and try to help.  “They” don’t need any help.  The important people have been identified this year – the ones doing the needed work.  The ones that made it possible for us to survive this pandemic even when we needed to go into lockdown.  The saddest thing about all this is that this country is still not realizing what’s actually important.  And why is that?  Because about a third of this country is fucking retarded.  If you took offense to that statement, I hate to say it but you’re one of those.

These cretins that are currently in charge are masters at creating blatant falsehoods that only a retard would fall for; yet a full one third of this country’s population eats up this bullshit hook, line and sinker.  It’s amazing to me.  Science – the only reason why we, as a species, have been able to obtain a higher standard of living as opposed to your common dung beetle – is seen by these retards as “fake news” that should be ignored; not only ignored but abhorred.  The piece of shit now living in quarantine at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue in D.C. did everything he could to make sure that his kin – both figuratively and literally – remained in control of the retards being force-fed the bullshit.  Now he very well could die directly because of this.  Kismet.

Unfortunately, even if we are lucky enough for the over-sized, orange, baby-man to get his comeuppance and finally stop breathing, it still won’t be enough to solve the problems that he has created.  Ideally Pence would quickly succumb to the VID and Pelosi would get the opportunity to pick a replacement for The Notorious RBG.  Could you imagine how pissed that would make the tortoise?  I can dream, can’t I?

bis später,

Coriolis

Moo

Just received a phone call from Newark, DE.  I knew exactly what it was prior to answering but answered it, anyway … in an attempt to maybe put some “slow” on this latest nuisance that’s been introduced to my life.  There was a slight delay after my “Hello” followed by a young lady, an obviously Indian young lady, giving me the standard greeting and asking how my day was going.  My response to this was that I knew exactly why she was calling me and that I could save us both some time by informing her that I had just signed on for a contract job and was not available for other work.  She then completely ignored everything I just told her and started telling me about some contract work that she was looking to fill.

After patiently listening to her well-rehearsed spiel; I, once again, informed this poor girl that I was not available and won’t be available for a year.  This is where things get a bit strange … rather than just giving up, saying something along the lines of, “Sorry to bother you.  Best of luck with your new position and have a nice day.” then ending the call, she asks me to hold, puts me on hold and transfers me to her boss.

The boss – another obvious Indian … male, this time – basically begins the whole process again from the start.  Luckily for me, he understands (or at least believes) what I am saying when I tell him the same thing I was trying to tell the other lady earlier.  This finally ends the call although I’m not getting that wasted time back in my life.

A couple minutes later and I receive an email from the same people I just spoke to.  It’s the standard, pre-formatted, “Urgent” requirement for a “Physical Design Engineer @ Sunnyvale, CA / Austin, TX / Hudson, MA.”  This one’s from a Vaishali Tyagi with Raas Infotek in Newark, DE.  Although it doesn’t explicitly state this, I can – with 100% accuracy – also tell you that this contract job is with HCL (an Indian placement company) for a project that Intel is currently doing.  “How do I know that?” you might ask.  Well, this is FAR from the first time I’ve seen that exact same email.  I’ve probably seen it, or something extremely similar to it, at least 100 times throughout the last year … it never stops.  Hell, whilst typing these last couple paragraphs after that initial phone call I spoke of above, I’ve received a call from a number identified as “Collection” from a “landline in Nevada” that was an Indian guy trying to hook me up with the same job and another call from Newark, DE – the number only varies from that original call I spoke of above by the last two digits – that was yet another Indian guy.  It never ends…

You know, I could just ignore these calls – and I often do – however, I would much prefer a way to end them.  Mind you, this is merely a side-effect of what looking for employment has become these days.  It’s that cottage industry of primarily Indian-based, technical placement companies that has arisen by having the ability to constantly parse contract job postings and potential employees from the myriad of internet-based job boards that now exist.  I guess one should never forget that, in today’s world, we’re all seen as not much more than heads of cattle to our overlords and, at least in the high-tech industries, it appears that India has taken the lead in guiding the herd to the slaughterhouses.  Or maybe that’s just how I see it…?

bis später,

Coriolis

Lather, Rinse ... REPEAT

I’m sitting in my suite at the Larkspur Landing in a city by the name of Renton, Washington. Renton, Washington?  Never heard of the place; although it is now entered in on my Google Maps as my “home.”  Don’t think it’ll be too long before that changes – I wrote a check for $500 as a deposit on an apartment up in West Seattle earlier today.  I’m not one for wasting time and, the way things are with finding decent housing these days, I figured it best I claimed my stake before it disappeared.  All’s that’s left now is the application and – assuming I qualify with said application – delivery of my crap from Nevada.  No problem…

Interestingly enough, I’m not even 100% sure that I really have landed the contract job that all this “moving to Seattle” depends on.  However, I’m not about to let such a miniscule hitch slow me down.  Nope, I’m all-in.  I seem to have been dealt a solid “start hand” – it’s that flop that kills ya, though…  Curtis, the recruiter that landed me this job, is stopping by my hotel this afternoon to get the contract signed and whatever … maybe I’ll find out more then.  Haven’t heard “word one” from Boeing since being told that the PDF I created for the non-employee badge request was deemed sufficient and “preferred” to the FAX option that Curtis was asking me to do.  I was also informed that my badge is ready to be picked up although I still have no idea where this would be done nor where I am expecting to be working – an address would be nice … as would a start day and time.  Oh well, beggars, choosers – you know what they say…

I suppose this is just a case of déjà vu all over again.  Seems to me I’ve done this before.  It was a somewhat younger me and, at that time, the whole “not speaking the language of the locals” twist was thrown in as well.  I survived – thrived, actually.  Things have got to be easier this time.  It’s just that, at one time – and not too long ago, mind you – I believed I had put these adventures of jumping blindly into the deep end behind me.  An ill-advised detour seems to have brought me a substantial distance back, however.  Here we go again…

But hey, on the positive side, I am getting the opportunity to broaden my horizons.  I still have little to no idea what this next project will actually be requiring me to do.  I’m somewhat sure that it will require at least some of the skills I already know (well, knew at one time … let’s be honest, it’s been a while) although it sounds like the largest portion of work is going to be doing things I’ve never actually done before.  I’m thinking this will be mainly a learning experience.  Nothing wrong with learning new skills although I better learn quickly – getting paid to learn things just sounds so un-capitalistic to me and we all know that, in this country, capitalism rules.

I do get the opportunity to check out the Seattle lifestyle.  The apartment I just claimed seems like an ideal basecamp for such an endeavor as well.  It’s located just a short walk from the north end of Alki Beach as well as the Seacrest Ferry Dock.  I guess this basically translates to it being pretty much a short walk to downtown Seattle.  That could be good, I suppose.  I’m kind of hoping that, by its location alone, I will have much more desire to continue my adventures that I so enjoyed back in Santa Monica.  I tried walking through the old neighborhood a few times whilst back at the parent’s but that just wasn’t the same.  It’s a big plus to actually have something interesting to see.  I do hope it doesn’t rain too much…

bis später,

Coriolis

Fly, Fly Away

It’s a Saturday.  I’ve technically got nothing planned for today.  Tomorrow I plan to perhaps shave my head and begin the packing process.  I’ve got to somehow pack everything I’m going to be needing into a couple checked bags and one carry-on prior to my flight early afternoon on Tuesday.  I’ve got a one-way, first-class ticket to Seattle … it comes with two “free” checked bags and one carry-on.  I’m planning on using all three.

For you see, things have moved forward a bit since the last chat I had with you.  I mentioned the three jobs that I had the most hope of “going somewhere” and have apparently landed the first.  Ends up it’s in Seattle.  I, on the other hand, am still in Allen Park – a smallish suburb downriver from Detroit, Michigan.  This is currently scheduled to change in three days.  Although the actual start-date for this year-long contract I am accepting isn’t quite finalized yet – we’re currently “targeting” next Friday, the 1^st of March although that could easily slip a bit – I’ve decided to fly out there a few days early.  I’ve booked a room in one of those extended-stay type hotels – booked it through March 15^th, actually – and I am hoping to use the days before I start work to hopefully find an apartment or at least begin the process of apartment procurement.  Seems like, these days, this process has the potential to become a bit complicated.  Fingers – crossed.

It’s becoming more and more apparent that I’ve gone about this moving process wrong.  Although flying to Seattle is, by far, the simplest way to get “me” there; it makes the amount of “stuff” that I can bring quite limited.  The problem is that I drove here from California last fall with quite a bit more than I can pack into two checked bags and one carry-on.  First and foremost is the car that I drove – there’s no way they’ll let me check a car in on my flight!  So, the car stays where she currently is – in storage.  That’s just one more monthly bill I’ll need to keep paying until the time comes where I will hopefully be able to get the car shipped to me in Seattle.  Either that or I’m thinking I could maybe take a long weekend and fly back to Michigan, load up the car with the other items I wasn’t able to take on my flight, and drive her back to Seattle myself.  That, of course, would need to be sometime after winter.  Winter, after all, is why I’m not just making that drive now.  Driving a sports car with speed-rated, sport tires across the north of this country in the middle of winter just sounds like a stupid thing to attempt … besides, my mom won’t let me.  I’m going to now need to be renting a car for quite some time … yet another expense.  Oh well, that’s life.

Apart from the car, I’m also going to be needing to leave my guitars – some other bits of miscellanea as well, but the guitars seem quite consequential.  I suppose they’re actually no big deal since I haven’t been playing them at all lately due to my fear of making either of my arms (or both) completely un-usable (I wrote about this a bit earlier).  Leaving them behind does seem a bit weird to me, though.

I don’t know … it just seems blatantly apparent to me now that I should have just rented a vehicle and driven to Seattle.  Sure, this wouldn’t have solved the “car” issue; however, it would have allowed me to bring everything else.  Oh well, at least this way I get to avoid a rather long solo drive just prior to tackling the “life restart” issues.  I suppose that’s probably good … something tells me that I’ve got some somewhat difficult tasks that I’m going to need to be solving soon…  Haven’t I already completed this portion of my life?

bis später,

Coriolis

Breathing...

So, I’m now basically waiting to “possibly” be hearing more on three job possibilities sometime soon.  “Possibly” is the key word there as I’ve been here before – been a consistent state of my life for well over an entire year to be more precise.

Two of my current possibilities are through a couple recruiters; one of which I was able to obtain an interview with the client directly – had the interview exactly one week ago today.  I have since heard through correspondence with my recruiter that I was actually one of five that was deemed worthy of an interview and was told, during said interview, that the company was in the process of “staffing up.”  I took this, at the time, to mean that they would possibly be hiring more than one engineer which I was actually glad to hear and was hoping to be one of the hires.  (Granted, the job’s actually a one-year contract to start, but I can do one year and deal with what comes afterword when it arrives…)  I heard from my recruiter now that they have “passed” on three of the interviewees, “hired” one and are currently “still deliberating” about me.  It seems they are trying to figure how I would fit in on the current planned projects.  Is that good or bad?  I don’t know.  Hopefully I’ll hear something soon…

The other recruiter-based possibility is for a company that I had been attempting to land a job with through other connections in the past.  It is, however, a job that is directly related to the military defense industry and might even require obtaining some sort of security clearance.  This time, however, the recruiter that I am using is working with a company that specializes in placing professionals in military related industries.  Will this help?  I don’t know … but the recruiter seems to be quite professional and has been sending consistent weekly updates since initially contacting me mid-December of last year.  It does seem like he’s trying…

The third opportunity that I am considering “active” is with this smaller, third-party, design services company – sounds much like a company I used to work for some 20 years ago.  This, actually, is the one I have the most hope for as it seems to be a place that I would be able to quickly get in-step with as far as work goes.  Had an initial phone screening – described to me as a “technical discussion” – with an engineer a couple weeks ago that seemed to go rather well.  Sent an email to the HR representative that I was initially corresponding with about a week ago and was told to “hang tight” along with an apology for not getting back with me earlier.  The “door is not closed” although the process has been paused due to other issues currently being dealt with.  What are these other issues?  Will they remember me when the “other issues” have been dealt with?  Will I even hear anything more from these guys?  I have no idea…

You see, that’s just the way it is these days.  Those are just the three opportunities that I am currently considering “active.”  I’ve got somewhere around 250 other positions that I have applied for at somewhere around 140 other companies throughout this last year and have absolutely no idea where I stand on many of those.  I sometimes receive rejection emails, more rarely have some sort of phone interview that goes nowhere and quite often get phone calls and emails from recruiters (almost always from recruiters of Indian decent) for positions that I have already applied for.  It’s a bit maddening.  As a side note here, those recruiters are always a waste of time … seems to be a new cottage industry created in order to find Indian engineers sponsorship opportunities for H3 or H1b visas.  They’re obviously driven by nothing more than volume.  I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised to learn that they actually have quotas that need to be met.

The recruiters that I am working with for the couple active possibilities I wrote of above are, interestingly enough, not of the shotgun-approach, visa-seeking variety.  They are both much more professional recruiters working with what at least appear to be solid, well-established job placement corporations for professionals.  I’m hoping that not being immediately asked to fill out an obviously standardized questionnaire asking what my “hourly rate,” “date-of-birth,” and “current visa status” is might be a good thing.  You see, that’s what you always get from the Indian recruiters.  They’ll even go as far as asking for your social security number on some occasions – for reasons that they never are able to explain.  It’s all bullshit…  I’m hoping that using actual recruiting professionals might have better results.

Of course, if I do land a job soon, all that’s going to do is kick off a process that I’m beginning to wonder whether I’ll be able to successfully accomplish.  I’m going to have to move.  Now don’t get me wrong here, I want to move – oh yes, I most definitely want to get myself an apartment somewhere and finally complete this goddamn move that I started almost a year ago – but I seem to have lost the ambition required to do anything that has even a hint of challenge to it.  When I was younger, I never questioned anything.  For quite a few years I moved almost annually to new locations.  Hell, since graduating college I’ve moved to somewhere around 20 different addresses in five different states and even lived temporarily in yet one more state and another country.  This used to be easy for me.  Now, however, the thought of all the things I would need to do keeps me up at night.  It just seems like it’s almost undoable.

Oh well, if you’ve been reading my blog, you are well aware that I am the only person to blame for what my life has become.  I suppose I’m going to need to “man up” at some time and fix this fucking mess.  I sure hope landing a job will give me some direction – assuming I can ever pull that off.  I suppose all I can do is keep trying.  It’s getting to the point where that’s becoming difficult – this “breathing” thing that I’m continuing to do seems a bit pointless…

bis später,

Coriolis

Sot

So this happened…

Last Saturday I decided to head on up to Sports Haven – my ‘local bar’ of late.  Arrived somewhat early in the afternoon (approximately 3:00pm) and met up with Ron for some coneys and beers.  $1 coneys are always seen as a good deal by me and, since Sports Haven has ‘em three days each week and is a rather short walk from my parent’s, I take advantage of the deal on a somewhat regular basis.  Invited both Ron and Erik to join me this time.

Ron and I arrived pretty much simultaneously – he even yelled something at me as his car passed me walking although I couldn’t make out what he said and never bothered to find out … I’m sure it was something silly as that’s just the way we are…  He was exiting his vehicle as I arrived at the bar.

We entered the bar, grabbed a table and ordered up some coneys and a couple beers.  I also got myself an order of fries.  And this was the beginning – two coneys, an order of fries and beer #1 for me.  I won’t track what the others had as that information is inconsequential to my story.  For me, however, it’s two coneys, one order of fries and a beer at this point.

We were sitting there enjoying our food, sipping on our beers and chatting when Erik arrived.  He joined us at our table and ordered himself a coney and a beer.  I believe this was where I decided to grab myself another coney and beer as well.  Not quite sure if this was my second or third beer although it seems to me that it was merely my second.  Not sure what time it was when Erik arrived, but I do believe that both Ron and I had already eaten our coneys and consumed our first brews – must have been around 3:30.  This now brings my running total up to three coneys, an order of fries and two beers.

The three of us were sitting there contemplating solutions to the various problems we’re currently being faced with in this shitty world that we find ourselves living in … or perhaps we were just reminiscing over previous attempts we made at the same; either way, we were once again ticking away the moments that make up a dull day as we had so many times before.  It’s always a blast to get the opportunity to chat with these guys.  I’ve known both pretty much my entire life and, regardless of how long the time span is between meetings, the conversation picks up from where we left off effortlessly.  Once again, we were at it.

Ron, at some point, received a phone call from his son and invited him to join us.  He lives close by and joined the three of us soon thereafter.  This was when I ordered my third beer … must have been somewhere around 4:00.

I believe it was about an hour or so that all four of us sat there sharing stories before Erik, Ron and his son needed to leave.  Must have been close to 5:00 when they all did just that and I decided to stay at the bar by myself.  I had nothing else to do and figured I might as well waste away the rest of the day hanging out at the bar, having a few beers and watching some football or whatever.  It’s not like I needed to worry about driving home later or anything – my journey home was known to be merely a 15-minute walk as usual.  I go to that bar primarily because it’s only “stumbling distance” from my home avoiding the worry of perhaps drinking a bit too much.  No drive, no problem…

I remember basically burning through the remainder of that day.  I watched the Chiefs eliminate the Colts and the Rams take out the Cowboys; participated in your typical, bullshit small talk that consistently occurs between patrons in sports bars; ordered up some more fries and had a couple more coneys ($1-a-piece, why not?).  I was also, throughout the entire day, drinking beers.  I wasn’t really keeping track of how many beers I ordered however there were seven listed on the final tab I paid prior to leaving the bar.  It was slightly after 2:00am when I began my walk home – some 11 hours after arriving.

Thinking back on the evening/night later, I do not recall actually doing any “binge” drinking.  The seven beers on my tab actually seemed like too many when I received it and I remember saying the same to Coreen, the bartender.  Since they were on special (I think they were something like $1.75 each) and I didn’t really want to argue over something so petty, I just paid the tab.  She may have accidentally included the three beers I had already paid for from earlier in the day, but who really knows…?  I didn’t much care.

As to my condition, I felt fine – a little tipsy, but overall stable.  I distinctly remember the walk home as clear as a bell.  I remember entering my parent’s house, switching the light in the living room on, brushing my teeth, switching off the light in the living room and going to bed.  I remember all of that as being completely normal.  I felt completely sober.  I wasn’t stumbling or anything.  It was approximately 2:20 in the morning…

Next thing I vaguely remember was – oh, I’m not exactly sure how to describe this – “coming to” perhaps … somehow lying slumped in the corner of the bathroom and hearing this scale that my parents have (the electronic speaking type) sounding off that, “Your weight is twenty point zero pounds,” followed shortly by getting assisted up by my father in my bedroom where I apparently fell again.  I then headed back to my bed and lied there for some unknown amount of time (not long, though…) before getting up and noticing that my underarm deodorant had been knocked over on my dresser and wondered exactly what happened with that.  I don’t remember getting out of bed to begin with, heading into the bathroom nor returning to my bedroom between the two occurrences of “coming to.”  Not only that, but I distinctly remember hearing the scale read off a weight of exactly 20.0 pounds exactly one time … it usually states the weight twice followed by a “powering down” announcement.  All I heard was one announcement of 20.0 pounds with no notification of powering down – at least that’s all I remember.  I’m positive that more was said.  I found out later, from speaking with my parents, that all this madness occurred sometime around 6:30am – that’s somewhere around four hours after I went to bed.

I also felt like I had been in a fight or something.  I hadn’t … but it was later explained to me, by my parents again, that I had apparently passed out in the bathroom (and the newly bent towel rack in there is a strong sign of where, exactly, that was) as well as in my bedroom where I ended up slumped between a dresser and the door of the closet.  My back and upper right arm had a couple somewhat deep scratches and, as I would soon find out, my coccyx (tailbone) got bruised … again.  Been noticing that basically for the entire last week although it seems to be getting better now…

So my mom’s pissed now – I did mention the bent towel rack, right…? – and I’m confused.  What the hell happened?  It’s gotta, at least in some aspect, be related to what I drank the evening before; but I felt fine when I walked home.  I’m not just saying that as a joke – I’ve been drunk many times before and do know what being drunk feels like.  I was steady as a rock when I left the bar and walked home.  Although it is possible that I drank as many as ten beers that day – although I’m thinking the total was closer to seven – that was in the span of eleven hours.  Either way that’s less than one beer per hour … and the beers were of the ‘short’ variety – they were on special at $1.75 a piece, so they weren’t large.  And why would I be passing out some four hours after going to sleep?  I’m still wondering exactly what happened there…

So now I’m thinking that I damn well better stop drinking completely.  That’s a bummer … it was nice to go have a few beers as a brief escape from this shit-show that my life has become every once in a while; but after that experience I’m thinking I better quit that.  I don’t know, is that possibly a sign of impending alcoholism?  Now that’s something I most definitely do not need.  Oh well, one more minor pleasure gone.  Life just continues to get shittier and shittier…

bis später,

Coriolis