I'm on the couch, 6:08PM, N and T watching 30 Rock, the dogs sleeping next to me on the futon. S is off at soccer, M on the other computer. Tomorrow's lunch is ready, my clothes laid out, and I don't need to do anything until tomorrow. That feels weird and somewhat tense. I also read my work email and the 360 degree comments, i.e. the comments from my colleagues about my performance, are supposedly in my mailbox. That makes me nervous. What am I supposed to learn from this? I'll breathe. I'll learn what I can. Practice.

Ok, last night I did the sprint workout. That forty minutes kicked my ass, but in a good way. Preston says I should be careful not to pull a muscle. I probably pushed too hard last night, but I survived, and I felt the workout effects for a good hour after I finished. That's good. My body has grown too accustomed to the gym workouts. T wanted to watch Jackass 3 later, after I took a shower, and at first I said I'd fall asleep and he could watch it alone, but he said he wanted to watch it together so he could laugh at the funny parts with someone. He's a good kid. I crashed on the futon and half-watched. That was fun, really. Then I slept on the futon with Pete while M slept on the chair.

More later, I keep getting interrupted. Breathe.

Happy Easter. I love Easter's message of hope and rebirth. Had I not been a slacker who doesn't like hymns I might have attended mass. Next week.

Today has been fine. Holidays are hard on M. She misses her family, wishes they were nearby, close enough so they could easily visit. M feels the holidays, especially minor holidays, are boring. We're usually together, all five of us, while the neighbors are off with relatives. I would say visiting relatives doesn't sound bad but I remember tense, endless afternoons at my grandparents' Northlake house. Without those visits I might not have become a voracious reader, but as I preferred avoiding ass-kickings I usually hid in dusty rooms or a clammy basement and read the hours away. So today, for example, when T and I were driving downtown and we saw a couple and a child gussied up in their Sunday best, headed to the Port Hotel restaurant, well, there but for the grace of God go I. And if the afternoon was boring, well, tense and endless is worse than boring.

We took the dogs to the beach early, around nine, and let them run leashless up and down the shore. Mack and Pete were 75% good except for a longass sprint back toward the power plant when they were supposed to stay close to us. Later I ate lunch, watched baseball, and discovered Redbox's awesome system through which one can find/order a movie online and pick said movie up at the appropriate Redbox. I also read a bit more in that book about fastballs and wrote a Tomato Red review draft. At seven I'm giving that sprint workout a shot. Have I mentioned the sprint workout?

http://sportsmedicine.about.com/od/sampleworkouts/a/30sec_sprints.htm

The gym workouts are getting routine. I'm hoping this jolt to the system will get my metabolism back in gear. Maybe the cemetery would make a good sprint path. More later. I couldn't lift today, by the way, my arms weren't up for the sets. That's fine. Listen to my body, I know.

I forgot to mention last night. First, I picked up T from a park in Saukville. He was hanging out with four or five very white trash kids who did not give exactly favorable first impressions. I drove four of them home, all but one new to me, and they were slightly more likable as the commute progressed. T's a good kid. He'll figure out with whom he should associate. I hope. Then M watched The King's Speech but the film bored me in about ten seconds so T and I headed west to Target for supplemental Easter supplies. Oh, I also helped M pack plastic eggs with foil-covered chocolate eggs and jellybeans that were really Starburst and, in turn, were edible. I was up later than usual, maybe 10:30, reading. Leaving bed this morning wasn't easy. Not sure why. The boys did a great job
with the egg search. I stayed out of the way.

Ok, maybe I'll clean, meditate, breathe, anything. The house is quiet. More tomorrow.

I'm upstairs, leaning back in the green camping chair N set up next to the bookcase. The windows are open but the air is losing its heat. Kids and siren sounds filter through the screen. Birds, too.

Today is lost and directionless but not bad and probably necessary. After days or weekends like these I tend to manifest productivity. Isn't that why weekends exist? This morning, after restless sleep, I woke near 7, drank coffee, and took a shower. At nine I dragged everyone to the library. We parked on the street by the kids' section. T and I stayed upstairs while M, N, and S searched through the downstairs stacks. I found a couple baseball books, one on fastball pitchers and the other on statistics. The cable guy predicted a 10-12 window for phone repair, so N and I dropped off his mother and the two older boys before heading to Alterra's for a bagel, latte, and orange juice. The space was crowded but we snagged the table close near the counter and read for a solid half hour. I love those stretches. N will, hopefully, remember them.

The air was warm, well, warmer, around 50, and the water in the ground after a week's rain evaporated so I felt as if I were in a cooler and more comfortable version of Florida. I ate lunch, watched (with N) a documentary on the open oceans, and read the first forty pages of the fishing book. I'm restless. T needs a ride from Saukville in thirty minutes. Maybe I'll get him. The King's Speech sits in my backpack but I don't know that I'm in the mood. Tomorrow's Easter. I wouldn't mind hitting mass. Oh, I forgot to mention I worked out earlier, too, but I'm getting bored with the gym equipment so later I looked up sprint workouts online. I'll try a sprint routine early tomorrow.

There's a decent chance I'll get a sabbatical in the spring of 2013, by the way. Doesn't that sound forever away? I'd like to visit every county in Wisconsin, speak with a teacher or administrator about teaching, teacher training, etc., and write a book about it. The U will pay me to drive around the state and talk with educators. Sweet deal. The book's been on my mind. Some structural ideas are emerging. I think I could write a good one, combination travelogue, interview, academic, etc. book. Wish me luck.

Ok, I shouldn't eat anymore. What should I do? Read? Probably. Last night I finished Tomato Red but I'm not in the mood for a review yet. Maybe I'm spending too much time with words. More tomorrow. Good night.

Happy Good Friday. I feel as if I should attend services. The weather is excellent for churchgoing, all rain and wind, and I'd like to sit in the balcony off to the side and take in the readings and Gospel but not the hymns or the handshake of peace. My whole body feels tired, every muscle, but in a good way, matching the weather.

The last couple days have been pretty good. Ok, I'm going to stop grinding my teeth now. Breathe. Yes. This morning I rose at 4:10AM and hit the gym by five. Hardly anyone showed, probably people slept late for the holiday. I did forty-five minutes on the modified stairmaster and skipped crunches. I'll do those later. Then I showered, ate breakfast, and drove into the office. The two doors back by the maintenance parking lot were locked so I cut through the dorms again, where I flash my faculty ID and the desk clerk, who probably doesn't care who she's letting through into the lecture halls as long as that person doesn't stop by the elevators, waved me without as much as a glance up. I got a shitload finished, though, tedious and detail-oriented paperwork that requires or at least lends itself to isolation. Huge raindrops hung on the windows. I lit a candle and listened to eels. Paul the security guard stopped by for a chat but he didn't stay long as he was leaving at 7:30AM. Other than wrestling with the complicated new printer/copy machine the morning went well. After a quick consultation with M I drove south a couple miles to Trader Joe's. M likes their orzo so I snagged three bags, plus this new rice/orzo combination, along with tofu, marinara sauce, refried beans, and garbanzo beans. Tourists and family heading home for Easter, I imagine, were heavy on 43 north. I pushed past the highway amateurs. Later I watched the start of the last Harry Potter movie, but that storyline freaks the shit out of me, even though my ten and eight years old watched without a flinch. T was playing hoops in the rain so he and I played one on one while the wind brushed the mist sideways. That was fun, an enduring memory, even, and he's getting faster. He said “you're taller than me” and I said, “Not for long.” Then we drove over to Starbucks for free Earth Day coffee and Gamestop for Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 2. T's been weird this week. First, he's on a self-imposed “no facebook” stretch that started after an insomniac night. Then he's hardly asked to hang out with friends. I'm not sure what's up, but he says everything's fine. We'll see. He's a great kid.

I'm drinking free coffee, reading Tomato Red, and probably will drink more coffee soon because I want to stay up tonight for The King's Speech. How in the hell did 5PM arrive? Have a good Friday.

Why hello, faithful blog readers. I'm upstairs, in the green camping chair, under the full spectrum light. N pulled this chair upstairs a few weeks back and I salute his innovative tendencies because this camp chair fits the space well. I've been reading here, rather than in bed or on the floor, more often than not.

This week has been ok. I'm struggling with exhaustion/illness more than I'd like, three weeks after the wisdom teeth removal, and I can't seem to shake the recovery process. Not sure why. Yesterday I taught and by the end of the day my voice was gone and staff members were trying to send me home so I didn't die on the premises. Today, after twelve hours of sleep, I felt better. The boys and I hit Cabela's for a new net and Costco for mozzarella sticks although apparently Costco doesn't stock mozzarella sticks anymore so we settled for Nilla wafers. This afternoon I walked maybe five miles through the grey, forboding Wisconsin spring. Geese looked angry. And while the five miles wore me out more than they should I felt happy with the exertion. I tried to breathe and reframe the afternoon in a more positive light, and I 75% succeeded.

Tonight I think I'm starting Woodrell's Tomato Red. After 100+ pages from Bryson's book on houses I got bored with his meandering and I'm ready for something else.

Ok, I want to talk about suicide for a second. Don't be alarmed. I'm not going to off myself, not with the high quality drugs I can legally access, especially since I read the hydroxine label and discovered I can take two a night. Holy hell, I love that substance. When combined with Lunesta the trio of pills provide about a half hour of pharmaceutical bliss before I fall asleep. I want to take some right now but the hour is barely past six. That's ok. A couple hours. Anyway, back to suicide. Historically I've perceived suicide as a release valve, if you will, a way out if my existence became too painful or out of my personal control. And I doubt that'll ever change. But now, as I get older, I warily eye those who choose to end their lives with great empathy and a quiet understanding, like sighing air from my lungs and reaching across a table to someone I want to comfort. This has been on my mind, I think, because two people have killed themselves in downtown Port this winter. The first, a woman, leaped off the breakwater during a winter storm. The second shot himself on a bluff bench. I am not on that path. But I recognize the dead as speaking a language that I comprehend and never can unlearn. May their souls rest tonight.

T is watching Takers. He's in middle school, yes, with the worst movie tastes imaginable. I refuse to watch. Tomorrow the boys and I might hit the Imax for a film about the Hubble telescope. N is obsessed with space. Or we'll save the gas money and stay local. Not sure. I'm already bored with Easter break. Bring on the season's rebirth. Have a good Wednesday night.

written earlier in the day, didn't have net access in the cafeteria


I'm in the Thomas Jefferson Middle School cafeteria, 8:44AM, surrounded by chess nerds. Oh, I don't intend to sound mean, maybe just a tad sarcastic, as the chess nerds are a courteous bunch and kids could do a lot worse than chess on a Saturday morning. The locals could be snorting meth (you snort meth, right?) out in the woods or having unprotected sex in someone's garage. So, sure, chess is good.

I don't like chess. Although I've taught my children how to play as a rite of passage the game does nothing for me other than inspire a desire to end the game as quickly as possible so I can do something more interesting, like empty the dishwasher or put a new bar of soap out in the shower. S is a decent player, though, even without practice outside of tournaments. So here we are. I don't think I have to stay but rumor has it this tournament will be visible through the library windows so I thought I'd stick around for the opening matches. After that I'm not sure what I'll do. Rain and wind rule the day, perfect coffee shop weather, so perhaps I'll hit Java Dock or Smith Brothers. Or I could pick up the third Star Wars Legos installment. Either way. I have Bryson's latest in the computer case, too, so I could grab some hallway floor and read. I'm breathing and letting the day come.

Ok, nerd movement. Sometimes just said something about I couldn't quite hear/understand and all the kids are moving to the library. More later.

I'm in the dark, 7:00PM, watching Tron with N and S. Man, this movie is boring. Rain is falling, wind is blowing, and I'm in for the night. I've already had a beer. This would be a great night for a coffee shop, maybe, but I'll stay home, most likely. Pretty soon I'll head upstairs and finish Travels With Charley.

So this week has gone well except for an insane insomnia stretch Monday night/Tuesday morning. I was tense Monday night and couldn't sleep. And couldn't sleep. And couldn't sleep. Finally about one I gave up and drove into the office. I was somewhat hallucinatory by this point but I managed to get a ton done in three hours. Then I drove home and did next to nothing all day in that nauseous, half-awake state. So at 4PM I took some high quality sleeping pills and crashed, hard, for fourteen hours. Wednesday and Thursday were busy but productive.

Last night I did the elliptical for 45 minutes after Cub Scouts. Man, I needed that. This morning I decided not to push myself and instead tried lifting for the second time this week. I couldn't get past the 2nd set. Tomorrow I'll try cardio again. This is opportunity, really, and I'm gaining back my health. Let me live.

S and his friend Phoenix are playing Halo while I write at the dining room table. The dogs are outside. M, N, and T are out shopping. The windows are open but we're in one of those spring stretches when you could gain twenty degrees driving ten miles west. Bleh. I think I'll close the skylight and take a bath soon.

Well, I'm slowly recovering but not better yet. Yesterday my throat and sinuses were so sore I gave up and visited the walk-in clinic. The doctor prescribed some high-power antibiotic and today I feel better but not all the way together. My teeth hurt, too, and I've down more Ibuprofin (sp?) in the last seven days than in the last seven years. Plus I still have maybe three or four oxycodone (sp?) remaining, but I'm saving those for the evenings.

Are you sick of my talking of illness? I am.

So what else is up? I've been re-reading Steinbeck's Travels With Charley. Last night M and I watched the rest of the first season one Modern Family disc. I also caught up on sleep. This morning I hit Alterra's for an hour or so. Oh, I also made cookies.

Tomorrow I might stay home from work. There isn't a pressing reason to drive into the office; I can do most of the work at home. I'll also save the seven buck commute necessitated by rising gas prices. But I'll get bored at home so maybe I'll go anyway. Or Tuesday. I could always hit the art museum Tuesday afternoon if I'm in the office all morning. What do you think?

Ok, time to make more tea and write a Demian review. S and Phoenix are laughing at Halo, saying “You killed my little bunny!” to the television screen and cracking themselves up. Life is good.

I watched Tangled. Pretty good. N was transfixed. Now I'm upstairs, full spectrum light and fan running, listening to Aphex Twin's "Rhubarb" over and over again. I'll read Steinbeck in a few minutes. Chest pains.

Man, I didn't realize this whole recovery process would take longer than a week. Yesterday after work I hit the gym for 45 minutes on the elliptical. That decision ranks high on my recent “dumbass decision” list. I survived the workout but my health plummeted toward evening. My body's too worn out for the gym and today, again, I have no energy.

This week has been ok, though. I drove to the office every day and got a lot done. If I hadn't I imagine the backlog would bother me, anyway, so I'm glad I didn't take time off, even if just about every night I collapsed as soon as I returned home. This weekend is wide open, at least, and I'm taking it easy. I'll read Steinbeck and wear my pajamas. This morning I hit Kohl's, where they didn't have futon covers, and Target, where they did. I picked one up before stopping at Costco for a few things (yogurt, Dayquil, pizza, laundry detergent). The skies are grey and the air cold, in the forties, but we're due for the seventies, believe it or not, Sunday.

Earlier this week I re-read Hesse's Demian, review soon. I've also been listening to the Kate Bush back catalog. I hadn't listened to her early material in a year, at least. That was kind of fun.

Boogers are running all over. I'm going to fold laundry and drink some tea. More later.

I'm on the futon while T and N play Halo. Does it sound like my kids play video games 24 hours a day? That's not quite true, although I'll often write while they're playing.

I'm in that “not sure if I should work out” mode right now. Earlier I had taken my gear, planning on changing at work and driving straight to the Y, but the sore throat was sapping my strength so I went hope and watched the Brewers instead. They lost again, by the way, late in the game. Fuck! Get it together, Brewers! Stop fucking around! Anyway, I skipped the gym, stopped at Walgreens for Dayquil, and returned home. I'm losing my chronological thread. Let me start over.

This morning was ok at work. I'm way ahead, really, more than I expected. I'm glad I answered email and worked ahead last week. Most of the morning I cruised GR/FB and put together a set of benchmark artifacts for reliability/validity checks. Yay. I guess I also fine-tuned tomorrow's class and talked with some students. Not a bad day, really.

I'm calmer lately. Not sure why. I'm a little happier. More tomorrow.

Early Monday morning. The dogs are asleep, Mack on the chair, Pete on the couch. Someone's moving upstairs. I hear voices. I think N is up.

Last night I drank expired cold medicine (oops), took a lunesta, and read Demian until I crashed hard before eight. I woke a couple times, maybe near 11 and around 2, then rose at 3. I drank some throat coat (throat still a problem), checked in online, and watched a few old Buffy segments on Logo until about 4:30AM. Then I lifted for the first time in close to a week. M said the dentist said I shouldn't work out too much after the wisdom teeth operation because the blood would rush to my stitches and hurt like a bitch but I was fine, more than fine, really, as the few days off seemed to give my muscles time to regenerate. The lift was easy. After that I did the yogurt/protein, ate a little more breakfast, and watched the news while drinking coffee. Here I am. On Monday mornings I often have a difficult time leaving the boys. This is exacerbated, I think, by last night's early sleep and my leaning on them about video game fights and messy rooms. So I could be in the shower now, rushing to get ready, but I'm not in the mood.

Interruption...N and M are up early. N is now quietly wrapped up in a blanket watching The Most Extreme. His nose gives me problems at night. More later...have a good Monday.

Why good evening, blog readers. I'm on the futon, 5PM. The boys are playing upstairs. M is making grilled cheese. The dogs are chasing shadows in circles around the first floor. All afternoon rain, wind, and clouds have cartwheeled through the neighborhood. These Sunday nights stick in memory.

My throat hurts. Not sure why. This morning I woke with a soul-reducing sore throat. Tonight I'm taking cold medicine. I get the sense that boogers or whatever are running from my sinuses into my throat. This wouldn't be a big deal, I suppose, except I want to lift in the morning and I can't if I'm all snotty. We'll see. Maybe I can combine cold medicine, a painkiller, an anti-anxiety, and lunesta. Holy hell, I'll be flying.

So this morning I slept until close to seven-thirty and didn't hit the coffee shop as planned. Instead M went to the gym while I showered and ate breakfast. The boys fought about video games about 25 times before 9AM, so I made them clean their room and come up with a non-combative video game plan. I was pretty hard on them but this shit has endured long enough. Then I cleaned the first floor and finished Talking With Girls About Duran Duran on the couch while the boys returned to video games. Not a bad afternoon, really. I'm reading and writing a ton lately. I'm not sure why. I mean, I always read, I guess, days don't pass without my nose in a book, but I've been reading six of twenty-four hours since the surgery. I've also been reading fairly easy material, though, but no complaints, it's not like I'm reading Cosmo. After finishing laundry and watching a Bones I meant to drive to Alterra's but detoured to Borders. I don't know if they've been putting more material out on the shelves or what, but I found a shitload that I either passed on earlier visits or was recently place in the stacks. After just scanning the fiction I found another Bukowski, a couple Burroughs, a Leonard Cohen (looks weird), and a few more. Not a bad haul for 30 bucks. I drove home, answered email, and drafted a book review. Then I had fake chicken nuggets for an early dinner, put away laundry, put out tomorrow's clothes, made tomorrow's lunch, and cleaned the kitchen. Then back to the couch with Hesse's Demian. I haven't read the book in twenty years but today, with all the rain and wind, is a perfect day for Hesse. I'll write more on him later once I've delved deeper into the book.

I need blueberry tea. I refuse to call it “tisane” because “tisane” is a stupid word. Good night.

My mom once said addictive personalities run in our family. I've never been into gambling, alcohol, or excessive masturbation (I think), but I tell you, man, I am LOVING these painkillers. I could take these pills on a daily basis for the rest of my life. Painkillers rule. They carry such a pleasant, spacy high, with none of the smoke or subterfuge. I want to hug them.

Today has been fine but I'm reeling a bit from the serious routine change. I can't work out, I can't eat normal food, and my energy level remains low. This afternoon I read Talking With Girls About Duran Duran on the couch while T played Black Ops with his friends via Xbox. Then I made a pretty good chocolate cake with cream cheese frosting from a Penzey's catalog recipe. After that I took a bath, gently chewed a couple tofu tacos, and tried to watch Tangled with the boys but our pay-per-view service isn't working, so we watched a Disney documentary on the oceans instead. Well, the documentary is still playing but everyone's ditched me. That's ok. I think T's staying up late for more video games. Mack just crashed next to me on the couch. Good dog.

The Brewers are losing.

Tomorrow I want to avoid the drugs for the morning and hit the coffee shops for, uh, a different drug, I guess. Ok, here are the options:

1) Java Dock: Local, funky, but a weird setup and unreliable wireless. The space is divided between two floors. The first floor leads to a narrow space, maybe ten by twelve, where you get your coffee. They can address only one order at a time and the area gets crowded quickly. The upstairs area is pretty cool, old tables, board games, etc., and I like the view. I feel like I'm spying on the passing cars. And when I'm with N and M on Saturday mornings Java Dock is usually the best option if we can snag a table even if there's no privacy and people are more or less on top of each other. Their hours are weird, though, and the hippy who runs the place will close at any moment. I get frustrated when I show up on a Saturday afternoon and they're closed for no reason I can discern.
2) Smith Brothers: Local as well, two blocks east of Java Dock, right along the main street near the harbor. Smith Brothers' primary con are their employees. I'd say about half are bitchy. I don't know why. Maybe they have a good reason. Also, their tea blows and sometimes the employees don't seem to know what they're doing. They've got a couple of regular counter people, I guess, who are good but you're rolling the dice every visit. The wireless is reliable, however, and you can't beat the view of passing cars along Grand and Franklin. The tables are a little small for real work but if the three wicker chairs are open near the fireplace the kids can get lost in their books and time passes quickly and easily. Smith Brothers gets the tourist business and, in turn, has a better chance of staying open.
3) Grafton Alterra's: I have to drive a couple miles to the Grafton Alterra's but it's probably the best of the three options. Their wireless is impeccable and the coffee excellent. Alterra's is a small, reputable chain, if you're not from around here and don't recognize the name, and they do enough volume to keep a couple people working the counter whenever they're open. The counter people are pros. Cons: Alterra's can get crazy loud and busy and if you're with someone getting a table can be difficult at peak hours. If I'm alone I usually snag a counter space, looking out over highway 60, where I can plug in the laptop and get to work. I trust Alterra's more than the Java Dock or Smith Brothers.

I don't know why I wanted to write about coffee shops tonight, but I did. Off to read. Good night.

A little after noon, Saturday, a cool spring day. Well, I had the windows open but M thought the air was too cold so she closed them. That was ok. Enough fresh air for now.

I'm on the futon, surrounded by pillows, a sleeping bag on my feet, the sun appearing and disappearing on and off. N is reading the comics at the dining room table. T just abandoned the X-box. S is on the computer, I think, M making lunch. The dogs are in the crate until lunch's end.

My teeth feel ok, I guess, although apparently I'm supposed to ice them more often. Only today when I looked in the mirror did my cheeks look different. Oh well. I'm not out to impress anyone.

This morning I woke near six after nine hours of intense, chemically induced sleep. I stumbled downstairs and watched the news until N took over and watched last night's Clone Wars season finale. I took a painkiller and spaced on the couch for a while before showering, cleaning, and walking to the library. You can smell spring in a way that I struggle to describe; the greenery, while appearing dead, is coming to life. A couple minutes after I stumbled into the library T caught up with me. We talked a little with Brooke, the librarian, then walked home. The exercise, only a half-mile each way, wore me out. I wrote a book review, ate a little ice cream, and crashed on the couch with another Rob Sheffield book. M's about to turn on House.

I'm also drinking coffee, first time in a couple days. I need a latte. Maybe I'll hit Alterra's later, but my energy is still low. More tonight.

Ok, strap in, folks, this post will be powered by 1) lunesta, 2) hydroxosine (sp?), 3) oxycoden (sp?). So...a sleeping pill, an anti-anxiety, and a painkiller. Whoo! Rock and roll. I'm starting to like pills a bit too much. I understand why people could get addicted. But whoo I like them.

So yesterday the wisdom teeth extraction took place. M and I drove down to Mequon Rd. She took over the desk negotiations, length of the procedure, etc. A nurse who reminded me of my colleague Lisa hustled me into the back room and did the blood pressure, questions about what I ate, etc. She hooked me up to a heart and breathing monitors and told me to breathe more. I tried, but apparently I wasn't breathing properly, so she stuck two plastic prongs up my nostrils, like my nose was an electrical outlet, and out poured the sweet smell of pure oxygen. Good start. Then the Dr. entered, along with another assistant, and put in the IV. The walls shook a little, I laughed, and I was out. The next thing I remember was waking a little while they were still fucking around in my mouth but I think the turned up the IV flow and knocked me out again. M and the nurse drunk-walked me to the car. Or so I thought. 45 minutes had passed during which we chatted with a nurse about post-operation care. These memories mostly escape me. The return drive home is lost to repetition memory, too, I remember stopping to to turn in a prescription. After arriving home I crashed on the couch and watched baseball between reading that book (can't remember the title) with advice from hipsters to magazine subscribers. I'll explain it later. I couldn't eat much, just soup and ice cream. The boys were fine getting home and I thought I was in pretty good shape. I didn't take the night painkillers, slept pretty good, and woke feeling close to normal. But after I cleaned the kitchen and ate breakfast I felt tired, so I sat on the rocker and finished “Inside Job”, the documentary on the economic collapse. Pretty good. I don't know much about economics but from what I can the film was well done. I decided I needed to get out of the house so I drove south to Borders. The ride down was fine, loud music, Kraftwerk, I think, and Taylor Swift. The biographies were set at 70% so I picked up a Bukowski memoir and some weird Burroughs dream book. The drive home was a bitch, however, and I questioned my decision making as soon as I hit the freeway. While I'm not proud of this history I do have a solid background driving under the influence of various chemicals (thank you, God, for hearing my prayers) and steered straight enough to land in the garage. I ate more ice cream and watched another Bones. Then M returned home and she watched two Bones, catching up to me, while I fucked around on the computer. Then I started feeling sick. The recovery guidelines suggest gargling with saltwater. As soon as I put the liquid into my mouth boogers poured from my nose. That was interesting. And a little while later, after watching some baseball (White Sox win) and some documentary on that Banksy guy, I started to feel out of it. I took the Bukowski book upstairs and finished in about four hours. I'm back and forth on Bukowski but I liked this one. More on that in the review. Now I'm listening to Mozart's Requiem, thank you, Mr. Bukowski, for reminding me of how great classical music sounds on drugs. Oh yes. Perfect. I'm going to get the boys to bed then maybe come down here, light a candle, and stay awake as long as I can, in the dark, with the Requiem. I doubt I'll last long. The drugs are doing their jobs. Good night. More tomorrow. I feel pretty good when I don't feel like I'm ready to die.

(This post was written yesterday morning, Thursday, about 9:30AM)

On the futon, watching Bones (well, re-watching Bones, I've seen this already but Maura hasn't). In about a half-hour, maybe a little less, we'll head out to the oral surgeon's office. Supposedly I'll be home a little after noon. We'll see. I'm curious as to how long the sedatives will work. Will I sleep all afternoon? I have no idea. Sleeping all day seems a waste.

Everyone's home, by the way, and feeling happy to be home, from what I can tell. The boys are off at school. Last night I stayed up late since I wanted to sleep later this morning and not deal with the "no food or drink" instructions this morning. I listened to "Darkness on the Edge of Town", watched Bourdain's Ozarks episode (excellent), and watched Inside Job until the fatigue rendered me unable to comprehend the charts, etc. Then I read a little (some book with fake advice, don't remember the title, but pretty funny).

Ok, head spinning a little. More later.