I didn’t love much about this past week – my cat is sick, and she’s not being super agreeable about medication. It’s a worry. She’ll be thirteen this May, and I’ve had her since she was about six weeks old – a rescue from the feed mill I worked out. She’s got a urinary tract infection. She’s got antibiotics, and I’m administering them, but there’s … Continue reading Things I liked about the week that was – an off-the-cuff joint.
I’m neurotic. I’m neurotic in the literal sense – I have neuroses. Lots of them. A neurosis is a mental condition not caused by organic disease, involving symptoms of stress such as depression, anxiety, obsessive and compulsive behaviour, and somatic responses, but not a radical loss of touch with reality. Neurotics mostly don’t experience psychotic breaks. At its root, neurotic behaviour is an automatic, unconscious effort to manage … Continue reading I’m neurotic, an off-the-cuff joint.
My mother died on January 3, 2024, but we – I – finished the last of the bureaucracy last Wednesday. All the notifications we need to do are done, all her services are cancelled, and all the government departments are updated – and why there isn’t one department to do that in this computer age is beyond me. Someone should create a death app. You … Continue reading Grief is like Pop Rocks.
We’re our stuff, and our stuff is us, and our stuff is garbage, not in a metaphorical sense with regards to the quality of its execution or its greenwashing, but in the literal sense, in that most of our stuff is trash, or will end up there, not while we’re here, of course – in that case our stuff is valuable, all of it, the … Continue reading Stuff
From Famine to Feast 