Page 83, and uh oh, it may be a chemical swing

Whenever I have this sudden feeling of well being, especially after days or weeks of fighting a feeling of doom, I wonder if it is the result of efforts to chase away the blues or the result of a chemical balance swing. If you ride such highs, the crash is that much worse. I've learned to attempt to separate the lie out of the highs and the lows. Both tend to produce false premises in the mind.

But, in reality, I'd say I have more reason to be enthusiastic about life than not. Doesn't mean I'm able to do that internally much of the time- only intellectually. It's complicated to explain, simple to coach. If I were the coach, I'd say, "Ignore any ups and any downs. Just do what is in front of you without opinions about whether it or you are good enough, whether you are competent; just do it and shut up." You have no idea how hard it is for me to just do that.

That is why good or bad I continue with my book. Up to page 83 now. If I can finish it, I will have won one for life. Besides, if anyone doesn't like this story, then fine. But if they deem it a lousy story, they are wrong. There are things I didn't like which have been hugely popular and influential. What if those people had gone by my reaction? No matter my opinion of their work, it would have been pretty stupid to let my view carry any weight.

In my case, too, it is foolish to let my view carry any weight. If I do, I'll trash everything I've done, on a depressed whim, deciding it is terrible and and an embarrassment to my good name (what a joke). So, that is another of the things I've almost learned after all these years; ignore my own criticism unless it is actually focussed enough to produce a refinement or improvement to the project at hand.

There must have been a few rejections I've internalized, which gained residence in my mind. Rejection does suck, but the odds are those rejecting you probably deserve your rejection. I'd love to believe that, deep in my cells and bones, but I probably don't, even though it is true.

Uncle Me

If I can't be the patriarch everywhere I go, I guess uncle is next best. And don't say, "what about matriarch?". I won't even go there.

It's pretty cool to realize that some attachments defy explanation; just the way it is. That's how it works with some of my SD people. There is a bond and that's that. In the case of this young girl, perhaps we both have something similar in how we process the world of our senses. It's probably easier for me. I learn a lot from the perseverance and guts of this one. It is great to be considered somewhere between surrogate father (not that she doesn't have a great step dad), uncle, and friend. There is just a bit of mutual tolerance and loyalty there which is like an understood, unannounced pact that no matter what, we each have an ally.



This is one of the great things about moving out west to SD county; the chance to play a part in some lives which I won't detail here. Unusual things. More to life than meets the eye.

I'm busted broke so anyone expecting the obligatory gift can forget it. Even so, I like this time of year. I can make it what I choose. I'd never expect someone to produce a gift for me, so when I can't do it, I don't think they should think less of me. Those in the know realize that when I have money, I'll spend most of it on them. There have been some who were impossible to figure; no way to know what to give them, either materially or of myself. I guess you just can't always win in that way, or don't always belong in every association that occurs along the path.

Splendid Day For Football

Miami won. San Diego won. Maybe I'll start paying closer attention.
Oh, and best of all, FSU beat Florida!!! That is always a treat.

With all the scary weather reports and such, you would not believe what beautiful day this was, especially since I had to go do some piddly work for a couple of hours. That cold blue sky contrasted with those dusty off-white boulders all over the scrubby mountains. It just looks good. No wonder there are so many horse people out here. The land just seems like the kind of place people would ride horses. Maybe that is why so many cowboy movies were made in hills just like these, and maybe even these a time or two.

=====Another note of minor victory====
I don't know if this happens to others like it does to me, but sometimes the simplest chore will go undone forever, even years. It will be a thing that seems routine and simple to most people, but I will balk and even lose confidence in my ability to do it. These things are rarely anything major, but they become a symbolic road block; like a representative of the demons that haunt me. Whatever the thing is, it will become the one thing I must do before life can move on, yet I will fail to tackle it day after day. It is kind of absurd.

After buying fancy Bosch spark plugs maybe six months ago, if not more, and being sure I had the right socket, looking up info on this car on the net, I did nothing. All the forums were full of cautions and horror stories. You have to remove a thing or two to get to them, and even then a universal and a couple of extensions are needed.

I also had a new oil catcher; one that is big enough that the oil won't shoot past it, and then when you move it under the stream, and the rush is over it won't miss on the other side. Everything for a swell oil change and spark plug replacement were sitting right here. For a long damned time.

Now, if this had been for some doting girl, I would have tackled the job immediately. For me, no way. That hesitation lasted months, then when oil change time came, it was added to the job that wasn't getting done. I decided I need to do it myself because I am a rather poor boy and I need to do it myself.

Yesterday, I fought all my usual ways and means of sidetracking myself and set out to do the job in the windy and cool, yet sunny day. As far as I know, I did not cross thread the plugs--a big worry on the net. I did not splash oil all over the universe. It was one of those well planned, very neat jobs. The plugs were far easier than advertised, and the switchout probably took less time than the oil change.

I think it needed plugs. The old ones were a dandy color but the post that is supposed to be a cylinder sticking up was a little pointy cone. The new ones are made like that. They don't need gapping. Some kind of platinum things with a prong on each side pointing at one another.

Could be my imagination but I think this car has noticeably more power, and I know the idle is smoother.

How I lose confidence like this is a mystery. I've done considerably more complicated work. I just don't like auto work. You can be good enough at something but not like it. Saying I'm good at it may be an overstatement. I can do what I have to do and not leave things worse for it. I admire those who like it enough that they become fast at it as well as competent. I couldn't do it day after day. That's one direction I can strike off the list.

Good thing people are not all the same--despite what some may say. Otherwise no one would want to work on cars, or else everyone would, depending how the dice roll.