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I was really going to “get shit done”, but then the wif posted my name to my friend’s band’s show announcement. Really difficult to ignore that so we went. This meant I left work after ten hours, took the bus too Northgate, got picked up by her, went to the grocery store, went home, had two frozen burritos (post microwaving of course), went to show, saw buddy first time in forever, had a fun time, drove home, tucked her in bed, gamed for 30 minutes, went to bed. It was definitely worth it, but I just have a hard time with this whole school night show stuff.
I have a to-do list, I should mark stuff off of it. Maybe I need to give myself the goal of every day before I get to game I mark something off our work for an hour. It I could do dishes. The dishes totally need doing.

I should do something useful. I have my mom in-law coming to town in about a month. At a minimum I need to finish my desk so I can get crap of the floor downstairs, than take crap from upstairs and put it downstairs.
I kinda want to build shelves from odd circuit boards after taking a propane torch to remove the components, maybe I should start with just my soldering iron. Either way have to use ventilation and desk the fuck out of them afterwards with some varnish. The best heavy metal ain’t poisoning.
My new visions for the build cycle for teddy involve a ceiling mounted swing arm and a tether. I wouldn’t need batteries out nothing than. I would need some very long cables for carrying power and an uncluttered room first. One challenge at a time.
On other notes, the wif wanted a shower radio. Turns out she wasted a shower alarm clock, radio, mp3 player, timer and I’m sure some other things as well. I’m thinking about repurposing one of our old Incredibles; add a speaker, a waterproof case and an appropriate app. The app could be done in processing, and the front end would just be the normal touchscreen with a capacitive trigger layer on top.

The wif and myself had a couple bets last night at the local hop shop. That coupled with dehydration I actually crashed out pretty hard when I got home. Woke up about 15 minutes before my first alarm, fully clothed still. Five that point, my morning had been really mellow, even a little slow.
I got to the bus stop right on time, but there was no bus, barely any traffic. The sky could be described as powder-coated, from our house it was a uniform cold, dark grey. The bus was running behind, and no one was looking 100%, and now I wonder if my mood is giving the world to conform.
I mean, it’s obvious that’s not the case, but wouldn’t it be neat if I actually was the center of the everything?

I work because I get paid. I have no desire for the companionship of my fellow employees, no moral qualms about sloth, nor radical attachments to my work. When I’m paid, I work. If my employer wants to pay me to wear a stupid outfit, I wear the required outfit. If my employer wants to pay me to have no decorations at work, I have no decorations. Every once in a while, I think my matter of fact nature about this causes me grief. When I’m supposed to get all post because a bikini calendar is no longer okay, and I don’t give a solitary fuck, people get bitchy. I’m guessing this policy infringes upon someone’s manliness in the manly copy shop, with my acquiescence being tantamount with collaboration. Fuck em.

I am and have been a pacifist for something like seventeen years now. This isn’t be being all “foo, I burnt the cookies”, but more of “I’m Peter’s seething ball of unrequited rage”. I think I used unrequited right. I’ve actually forced myself to not externalize my anger, my desire for swift vengeance, that I’m not even sure I could hit someone in self-defense.
As a quick aside, this is not a call for help, nor a warning. I am, and will continue to be till my death of old age, a proponent of non-violent solutions to most every problem.
Back to my narrative. I’m play violent videogames; I watch violent movies; I read violent books. Occasionally though, I find bits of an angrier person slipping through. Prior to my understanding of the answer to many a teenage why, I identified with people like Tyler Durden, Peter (and to a lesser degree Patrick) Bateman, and Brom from Game of Thrones. Every once in a while I find myself confounded by the world I live in and I end up quoting some of my less nice influences. Today was that day.

“I feel lethal, on the verge of frenzy.”

– American Psycho Brett Easton Ellis

The yellow eye, burning down my soul like an errant spark devouring a wilderness. I try to escape beneath the steel sky at work, but it’s unseen gaze is worse than it’s direct baleful glare. Like razors it flays my skin. Tearing asunder my flesh with the might of Grendel when exposed. Crushed under the suffocating weight of it when covered, like a modern Atlas.
Under this terrible burden I have been tasked a mighty deed. I will overcome. I will get ingredients for nachos on the way home. This I swear.

I finally got back to working on my desk the other day as I’ve been doing other stuff lately. Drilled out my next few holes so I could finally get to assembly. Lines up parts and screwed in screws.  They didn’t catch strong enough to hold any weight. Last night I went to Fred Meyers to get nuts and bolts. I guess a buck fiddy isn’t to much to spend on parts. I’ll probably need to drill out my hikes again but that shouldn’t be too much effort and then I can get back to building. I think I’ve of the reasons I push back on stuff like this is post project depression. It’s a lot mire fun to think of what you’re going to make than use what you did make.

If I remember right, it takes about 5,000 hours to master something.  Not be the best, but have the infinite confidence that you know what you’re doing.  A few years ago at work I had a moment when I realized I want making educated guesses anymore, but straight up knew what the fuck I was taking about.
Due to changes in my industry, I sometimes get concerned about holding the line long enough to get the wife through nursing school. At a minimum I need to float for another 2+ years, and I’m sure I’ll do fine, but.  I like having a plan.  It doesn’t have to be good; it doesn’t have to even sound good; it just needs to exist. I have a plan, not really fleshed out but it works.  I just want it to work better. 
If I devoted 3 hours a day to my ‘hobbies’ that would be 1,000 hours a year, meaning 5 years until mastery. If shit goes sideways, I’ll have a lot of spare time on my hands, which means I just ramp up hard. Like the Poe song

There’s a broken beam inside of the big, big bridge
I guess that whole thing is caving in
Maybe it is time I learn how to swim
I’ll be a dolphin

Prolly my favorite song by Poe. Obviously by the lyrics it’s actually about love or some shit, but it’s also about just rolling on. When shit goes sideways, straight up pear shaped, rather than trying to make it right again, fuck it, turn sideways too.
I can never decide which (to/too) I should be using in the situation above.

Hell I hate the words even.  Btw, I had to teach my phone the word hell but not btw.  That’s bullshit.  The problem with social networks, is that for the most part, any one I have on my lists are also the people who know people I might write in regards to.  Even bitching to someone  in real life means that it’s only 3 jumps or so.  Screw you Zuckerburg!

Just occurred to me whenever I’m instructing someone else I say my only goal is an iterative improvement over the last time.  If that was really true I’m pretty sure I’d get a lot more done.