first day

First day of school for K – and for the local elementary kids moving to the "all-in-one" school outside of town – and the first of my slowdown mornings for me, timeshifted rituals and routines abound: reading first (John Rechy's CITY OF NIGHT, at present) with dogchildren and matcha instead of coffee – because reading tastes like matcha and working tastes like coffee (and the matcha buzz wears off after four hours, give or take, the verdict remaining out on whether I have my usual two cups of coffee while working or if I can drop down to one); then to yoga, breakfast, and the day's run. Then, The Work: Attendance Cards will, as always, be the start of the workday – only timeshifted a few hours because now I'm letting myself slow down and not cram the pieces of the day that refuel my self-respect into a few hours before the sun rises and spend the rest of the day draining that fuel with utmost consistency. Notions, even, of working – or, rather, tinkering – in the afternoon – though that will be more likely once NuSanctum is up and running. Might even get some more sleep / wouldn't it be nice.

So far, it's been a lovely experiment in temporal displacement – though it's apparent that I'll have to work out new running routes for the schooldaze as local schoolchildren gather at the old elementary school near me to be bussed out to the all-in-one and the sidewalks are now, between 0830 and 0900, overrun with frazzled parents and feral children (run away, run away / keep running) but, on the bright side, after that, it's gloriously, wondrously quiet around here.

rain rain rain rain wind wind wind wind advisory advisory advisory blah blah blah

Indeed, it is rainy and windy. Again.

Week's been nuts so my efforts to work out a rhythm to the day remain elusive. Assuming, as per usual, that I'll find it just as I have to switch to summer break schedule. Alternative would be to give in, start sb schedule now so I'm less pissy when the time comes. Hopefully sticking to Project500 (more on that in Sunday's Macro0166 but please do know know that "Project500" isn't some stupid / clever code title for something: I literally don't have a name for it and I'm basing it around 500 words, so that's what it'll be for now) / TSBMR / MacroParentheticals and that being it will help.

Current Project500 quandary: what's the bare minimum needed to open the gate to the winding road through?

High potassium continues, though all other numbers look fine, except for blood sugar but that's not surprising; it's always high in the morning. Doubtful that I have kidney disease, though who knows at this point. Only dietary thing I can think of that I've added (other than weight) since my big checkup (where everything was peachy) in December, is matcha (which I'm not giving up because I like how it makes me feel - read: not comatose) and an extra vitamin D3 pill at the doc's request three days a week. Everything they suggested had MORE potassium than what I was doing so fuck it, IDK. No call yet from the whitecoats, though if they keep to their pattern, it'll be either at lunch or at the end of the day.

unicorn

Being to find a rhythm to the day makes my creative work not my secret identity between bouts of househusbandry and life in general but my default, a less-segmented / compartmentalized way of getting through the day.

Current thinking is that a solution lies somewhere at the intersection of smart bulbs turning off in The Paintshop at certain times (EAT NOW), a defined endtime to the workday, and an increased effort at a.) letting go of my need for repeatability; b.) 🖕ing to guilt over doing what I want to do with my fucking time; and, c.) not getting bent out of shape over life breaking through the walls, those last remnants of a quarter-century past conservatory practice room guilt. Or, you know, me just eating when I'm hungry and doing what I need to do when I need to do it and coming back here to seek refuge in this temple to our lady of thankless calling. Saying fuck it, basically, and trusting myself that my natural rhythm will get shit done.

Have no walls – save for the essentials that keep the structure sound, perhaps? Less a fortress and more an open-air plan?

Eyelash-freezer of a run this morning (morning run for the weekends: makes things a little easier married-schedule-wise (and gives my upper half a couple of days off; might do the same mid-week, will see) but makes things a little harder "oh shit it's cold"-wise) in untrammeled cemetery snow powder: pleasant to look at and conceptually pleasant, but reality is, as ever, possessed of other ideas. Four miles.

Similarly struggling with even the newsletter this morning: words aren't coming and I'm beginning to think that my attempts at a third workblock have, no matter how much I've enjoyed adding it in the afternoon – and being able to add it in the afternoon – left me with only fumes to work with the next day. Won't deny that the breakthrough the other afternoon was nice – haven't felt it, the creative equivalent of an orgasm, in longer than I care to admit – but it's useless unless I'm able to think clearly enough to expand and build on it the next day. Better, I think, to find something else to fill those postprandial/post-run hours and let the pieces and fragments stew in the afternoon miasma of IDK.

Also struggling with newsletter formatting and rendering: seriously, WTF Buttondown? Something's amiss…

Not sure why it took me this long into the insulin pump / NuHerbie era to switch my running time from morning to afternoon, but I'm glad I did. Traffic as light – if not lighter (no school-busses, yay) – and no one around. Still have to work out the kinks with the insulin dosage / ratios but that's nothing different from what I've been doing for the last year in the morning anyhow. Will definitely continue – and eventually let Derbz come along.

Giving another workchunk a go, first afternoon I've had free in longer than I can remember. First cup of matcha in same. Missed both.

(Also missed using this space for more frequent life updates and random thoughtlets about anything and everything. Good to be emerging into something resembling a rhythm.)

In better humor this afternoon, much to the relief of the dogchildren and the unsuspecting populace. This semblance of making a day of my own, no matter how illusory, is wonderful.

experiment

Second day of current experiment and I’m considering it a success: since my breakfast is now portable (a protein shake of frozen fruit, almond milk, vanilla ice cream-flavored protein powder, spinach, and greek yogurt) I assembled it midway through the morning's workblock and came back to work until +/- 0730. Not sure why I didn't try this before (other than long-engrained habit and heretofore non-portable breakfasts); seems, at least for now, that NuHerbie is amenable to this change.

Far better use of my time (and dwindling stores of willpower) to work and breakfast instead of falling prey to the insecurity of what's in my email (fuckall) or in the RSS feeds (yawn, mostly) or in the news (nothing good) and breakfast.

dive / control

Arrived at the (obvious) conclusion that the only way to deal with the malaise arising from things outside my control in this game called writing is to double down and dive back into the things I can control with greater frequency. Three 90 minute blocks instead of two? Question being if it's sustainable – which is, and always has been, my primary concern, for better or for worse. Still, would like to figure out a way to make writing my default activity, without time constraints, as I do, for the most part, have the freedom to do so. Problem being that so much of writing (at least in my process) is in iterating and winging ideas without a straightahead to-do or outline. Task-based won't work - at least for big works (and word counts and I don’t play well together). Maybe for smaller things, though?

note to self / 20230717

If I'm lucky, perhaps this summer will be the summer that I learn my lesson: that it's ok to take time away, to work less, because eventually, I will want to work more again. It – whatever it is – needs space to become what it wants to become. Case in point: after reducing my worktime to one workblock per day, the vast majority of the last half hour being spent in the pangs of diabetically-mandated hunger, I've come back 'round to wanting to work twice a morning, two 90-minute blocks, my preferred schedule. Not sure what caused it, other than I was ready to get back to work – and I'm all but certain that I needed the time away to recognize that.

One thing I’ve learned over the past few months is that I need to spread my workblocks across the day instead of working only in the mornings: for better or for worse, doing so makes it far less likely that I'll use the vast chasm of non-working time to convince myself that my current project is a waste of time and that I should throw in the towel in favor of something less asinine.

"No, not really"

Only side effect from omi-jab is a sore arm. Feel totally human otherwise, invincible in time for the next immuno-evasive variant to arrive over the holidays.

Vibes of Ted Cruz announcing Carly Fiorina as his running mate before the primaries were over in '16 as Tumor launched his revenge/ill-conceived indicitment avoidance greatest hits grift last night. Biden's reaction, when asked if he had anything to say about Tumor's announcing his candidacy, summed up all of my current thinking: "No, not really."

Still, waiting on the signs to pop up in this red state hell – or, rather, more signs to pop up since there have been numerous Tumor/Pestilence 2020 and Tumor 2024 signs and flags that never went away from the last time we had to listen to that shit.

Tried working in the evening last night and I really dug it. Thinking the reason it never worked before was that in the pre-LAST CHRISTMAS times, I had to work then – now I'm doing it because I want to.