(un)intentional unintentionality and other afternoon adventures

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Taking the Sunday opportunity to write something here not only because the subject matter is on my mind but to test out and get used to typing on my new Logitech Ergo K860 keyboard and obliterate not only most wrist pain but my speedy hunt and peck typing of the last 30-odd years.

Might slow me down – not necessarily a bad thing.

Anyhow:

Learning, as I tinker with my day during K's summer break, that my problem is not with being bored (though I do get bored) but rather with periods of unintentionality or, to be more specific, with periods of unintentional unintentionality: while I'm fine with intentional unintentionality – I can add a layer of intention – watch a movie, drink with Lenny in RED DEAD II, WHERE ARE YOU LENNY?! etc etc – it’s those periods of unintentional unintentionality, those times when I'm at the mercy of others, when I'm at the apex of my status as – in my therapist's words – a sheep dog without sheep, those times when my happy pills work overtime to obviate the existential miasma of indecision and pacing – Kirby in tow, from one end of the house to the other – endemic to said lack of sheep, that prove themselves dangerous and fertile ground for the rabid chihuahua in my head to run rampant with its invasive thought-fuckery.

Solution: try to be more intentional in periods of unintentionality and/or learn to go with the flow more in those periods of unintentional unintentionality.

I think I'll be able to get used to this keyboard - though I still need the slight lift from the Apple Pencil box to make it work better for me. Intriguing.

damned if you do and damned if you don’t / meanwhile, in T1D frustrations

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Without fail and without regard to bolus ratio (the exception being when I take too much and crash myself into the 50s and have to bring it up which then puts me right back where I started) or the amount of basal insulin circulating through my system, my blood sugar spikes at 2100 and doesn't come down – again no matter the amount of basal or bolus or even a bedtime corrective dosage – until I wake up the next morning and give myself a corrective dosage which brings me down into the green without fail and which similarly ends up causing me to crash back into hypo territory on the morning run.

Next experiment: giving myself half of my dinner bolus with the meal and half a couple of hours later. Prediction: it will work for a couple of days then return to damned-if-you-do-damned-if-you don't. Alas.

(Also: starting up a new category here for T1D-life writings and etc. Will probably go with T1D though the temptation to call it TFD as I always do is strong.)

backyard: progress/20220610

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(previously…)

  • Fence remains vertical, no attachment required.

  • Thistlewar has ended on both sides of the yard. Hands are suitably shredded – but I prevailed. See next item.

  • Weedeater is fixed. Used blade to win Thistlewar. It still counts as a victory.

  • New shed door is installed. Kirby was a big help, especially when he stole my grandfather’s gloves.

  • The lock on the gate is now unstuck and working better than it had before when it was rusted shut which I guess isn't saying much but it opened so there.

  • Pond UV filter won't fit. Moved to backburner and after my "redo all the plumbing to make it hose and not PVC" project which is on the deep backburner.

  • Next up: Wisteria will be transplanted from front porch and its favorite climbing spot of the main electric line to the pergola to make a cover – and give it more sun. And less danger of me getting electrocuted and/or burning down the house which is nice.

  • Also: mulch. Much mulch.

  • In-lawn tomorrow. Ratchet strap mower deck still holding.

cauliflower transitions

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update/20220610119: MainFictionThing lives to for another day – though I still fight on with the cauliflower. Rubber duck debugging for the win.

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Much more important – and far more difficult - to me than the first sentence is the transition between the first and second paragraph (or track, or scene, or... ): in the traversal of that valley lies the work's tone and character and the first clause in the contract with reader/listener/viewer/player): what can they expect for the duration – to be thrilled? to be held by the hand, guided gently through this narrative concoction? to be confounded?  challenged? whiplashed around?...

Reminded of the scene in GET BACK in which George is struggling to find the words for what would become "Something" – "Attacts me like no other... " – and John tells him to sing nonsense until the word comes, "Attracts me like a cauliflower" being his offering; I've been attracted to the cauliflower for awhile now, my own failure to find the right shift being the cause of more than one work – and potentially this one, MainFictionThing – being condemned to the Purgatory file.

Back to slamming my head on the desk and thinking of cauliflower.

(Might develop this into the open garage door section of the next MacroParentheticals or this might be all I have to say on it. )

impositional affinities

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Tiny success: after banging my head repeatedly against the desk over thinking I had to arrange the zine pages myself in a "print layout for folded double sided pages that will actually reflect the intended page order and not some horrific mutant" guide?" and getting a kind response (thanks Stacy) and guide, learning that they're called "impositions" (indeed), I did further research and found that Affinity Publisher does it for you in the print / export to PDF settings thus relieving copious stress and much hair pulling even though I already cut my long covid-hair back to a short summer cut because my black hair in the summer makes me yearn to go grey which, in spite of life’s best efforts over recent months, has yet to happen.