It’s been a somewhat productive day, but one that’s had me ready to bounce off walls for much of it. With HRP out of my hair for just over an hour, I was able to to move without having to exposing anything to the usual family-de-railing events, that tend to occur whenever my mothers abreast of my plans.

Managed to take care of the enqueued phone calls on my list, including finding info a friend had requested in the same matter. About half a dozen phone calls, and four bits of intelligence to gather, all of which were solved, except for the sole fun one o/. That will have to wait until another target of opportunity since the fishing hole is closed this time of week, but everything that was important got done. Having about 5 minutes to spare, before having to return to a rate of 3-5 interruptions a cycle + being cussed at all day, I also decided to proceed with a few other things that were supposed to wait until post-license.

The main problem, is still that damn license! Reaching the required mark of 40 hours, is proceeding at a rate of roughly 1 1/2 hours x 1 week = meaning 18 weeks more until I’ll have enough hours to apply for a license. Since 5 more of the remaining 27 hours to go, have to be night driving, it’ll probably take longer knowing my mother… I’ve got to find some way around this road block—and without lying about the amount of practice time I’ve had! Perhaps I might not be much good as a person, but when I say that I something, you can generally bet high that it’ll be truthful.

Things found whilst cleaning ~

  • Backups of my old RvS and SWAT 4 keybinds, in Englush and German.
  • Old BF2  profile data backed up from 2009
  • A collection of xfire chatlogs dating back to 2007-2008; usually I trim my logs every couple of years
  • Copy of my bookmarks, left over from the original migration to ma.gnolia.
  • A copy of the first chat I had with a friend, dated 2008-08-17.
  • Various bits of TeX/LaTeX and troff/nroff documentation
  • Bundle of old programs, including my first C++ projects and many old Ruby, Perl, and Sh scripts.
  • An old document on backing up PC-BSD systems.
  • Some old software manuals, MicroEMACS, NFS systems, Nail, PHP, Java 1.5, ex, etc.
  • Old [SAS] Live Operation files: maps, opords, notes from testing various maps in SWAT 4.
  • An old draft resignation from when Snipers first draft of the SOPs were sent to Rouge for revision.
  • Birthdate of my desktop PC: 2006-02-11. Back than it was top of the line.
  • An old mock up for a personal home page
  • Draft of what hostage rescue on Raven Shields banking house mission, would look like in the near future.if done with real world tactics
  • Plenty of old photos

From all the files either deleted, or moved into cold-backup, I think my home directory is also another fifty megs lighter lol

Hmm, one of these days I should really say the heck with it, and just make as much racket as needs to be done, and make myself breakfast around 0500-0600 local…. hey, I’m always getting woken up… why not?

Most of the times I’m hungry in the morning, I’m the only dipstick awake, so I wait. By the time it’s safe to make racket, I’m usually not hungry any more :-/

You know, if I was actually smart, I wouldn’t have skipped breakfast and lunch before going to work today o/. I’ve been in such a disarray, I actually thought it was still Tuesday :-|. With the downshift in working hours, it’s harder to remember the day of the week, when you’re accustomed to remembering it based on where you’re working the day away.

Wednesday is a lot more slaves work to get done than a Tuesday, but it’s also a much longer driving time to and from. So today I managed to pass the 200 miles / 13 hours mark. Putting up with working in the family business, still doesn’t generate any income towards moving forward, so much as it does in keeping my mother in grocery shopping (oi), but it’s about the most road time I can get.

I’m hoping that solving the problem of Drivers License -> Paying Job, can generate enough income that I can get out of some of this stuff without it coming back to whack at the working schedule. The work I’m stuck doing isn’t as bad as it once was, hell, when I saw Wild Hogs, I could sympathize with Martin Lawrence’s comments about needing condoms on his shoes: and I’ve never been a plumber! Should the timing fall right it’ll be easier to replace slaving away for my mother, with working for hire and giving her a kickback out of my wages. If I have to, I’ll work two jobs, I’m already used to working until my face hurts, so the drain wouldn’t be much of a dip for a good bit of years to go.

Right now, the majority of my focus is on solving that damn drivers license. Moving forward to me, is as vital as breathing right now, and the only way to move towards long term goals, is passing the first mile stones… or die trying.

Nausea (Latin nausea, from Greek ναυσίη, nausiē, “seasickness” “wamble” [1]), is a sensation of unease and discomfort in the upper stomach with an urge to vomit.[2] An attack of nausea is known as a qualm.
The most common cause is gastroenteritis ( a stomach infection ) or food poisoning but nausea also frequently occurs as a medication side effect and in pregnancy. A number of medications exist that improve symptoms including: dimenhydrinate, metoclopramide, and ondansetron.

Well, I can rule out most of those…

Well, perhaps one upside of working off less than an hours sleep, if I don’t pass out closer to late morning maybe I’ll be ready for an afternoon nap later today. Lately I’ve been sleeping a bit later or a bit earlier, usually waking up closer to 0200 local/0600 gmt or some fractions of an hour before 0600 local/1000 gmt. So I haven’t been napping during the late afternoons.

I never thought I’d enjoy a siesta like nap so much, lol.

Threads upon black moods

For the last several days, as my status message would indicate: I’ve been in a black mood. Except for xfire, where my names been set to `Spidey01 = status message`, because of issues with the software I use to login to xfire with.

Status messages like this, is generally meant to serve as a warning, like a rattle snakes sound, only much less dangerously. It is meant as a warning, of the nature: that you shouldn’t expect to find me roundabout in a chipper mood. Unlike my family, who’ll rip anything or anyone apart when in such a  mood: I don’t take things out on people around me. So I’m more likely to be extra polite, rather than unnaturally snappy. I’m more snappy when I’m in a good mood lol. The closet I get to taking my blacker frames of mind on other people, is making it known that I’m not in a mood to talk (and thus think) further about it at the moment.

Within my small inner-circle, I rarely hide or conceal anything: I wouldn’t be allowing friends much chance to know me, if I hid from them, now would I? My belief in that, is part of why most of my life is essentially an open book. I’m an easy person to get to know, just hard to stand being around lol. Although I generally trust people to respect my right of privacy (as I do theirs), or I wouldn’t speak;  things of a truly private nature rarely stretch beyond me and GOD. Over the years, I would have to say the fact that I’ve never been struck by lighting, is proof that GOD is extremely patient (if you believe in the existence of such a divine power). My journal only sees entries I’m tolerable of being within public view: I have little to hide, beyond my computers login password.

Something running through my mind, among the thoughts being pushed aside on the way to sleep, was of a morbid nature. Along the lines that if I died, and everyone I know, both in person and digitally made aware of it, who would really notice my passing? While there’s plenty who would be sad (yes, I know who y’all are), the only ones I believe would truly shed a tear at it, amounts to a sub set of my inner-circle, that I can count on less than one hand. This isn’t a bad thing in my books, in fact one is arguably one of very few candidates I could honestly call the best friend I have in this world, still above the grave (don’t worry, I’ve no plans to leave you that soon). The thing that hurt with that morbid collection of thoughts, wasn’t that the majority of people who would be sad, are people that I have never physically met (although in one or two cases, that is likely to change in time), but instead that none of my own flesh and blood can be counted on that ‘less than one hand’ of people, who really would care that much.

For much of my life, I’ve just been ‘here’, I’m the reject, the asset, not something people can care for, just something they can use—that very much describes what my relationship with blood kin is like, and how they’ve damaged it over the course of things. In fact, I would say that it has been suitably fractured, that it is the source of certain equationals that I’ve often wrestled with GOD over; of which only 1 or 2 living souls know even a fraction of that. Undoubtedly, most of the people within my inner-cricle of connections know me better than my own flesh and blood relations; a price of how I’ve been treated.

Much of what, I describe as life having given me a fairly high pain threshold compared to most (people that I know), is also due to that. For some reason, I can remember the doctor cutting on my toe and sliding cardboard under my nail, and finding it remarkably low on the painometer: I also know the people I’ve got to thank for that (which remarkably is not far off from whoms responsible for how my toe ended up in that situation). I’m not sure if that’s a positive or a negative train of thought.

For years, my family has generally stripped away the good parts of my life, and I’ve come to have an unhealthy level of sympathy for such plights, as  that of Edmond Dantès. The existence that’s been imposed upon me, is not that far off from a prisoners, only the food here is better.

It’s part of why the success of Operation Redeemer, is such a critical aspect of my life’s goals. If I’m going to close my eyes on this world someday, I think that freedom is not to much to ask for. I’ve given family, a large percentage of my life-thus-far, and have generally been made utterly miserable for much of it. As someone who has essentially reached the half-way mark, in the time I expect to live for, leaves me little reason to dilly dally, and even less, as I hope to live twice that long. As I’ve said more than a handful of times over the years, because of my father an certain aspects of family medical history, I consider whatever time I have past my 30s and 40s, to be a gift: not something I’m entitled to.

My family cannot of had a more negative impact on my life, if more things were intentional, and I believe the chapter after redeeming my right to life, will likely be to solve that issue.

To barrow an axiom from a favourite film: time not important, only life important. It would be nice to have the latter, worth the former.

Shitsville

Around 22:00 I went to bed, thinking about recent mmods, when I managed to convince my brain, to push it aside and “Worry about that later”. I fell sound asleep. At 22:45 her royal pain had to wake me up, in order to get me to make a waffle.

and now I can’t get back to sleep short of being hit in the head with a mallet o/

Somehow I think it’s sad, responding to a butlers duty, having to deal with the apartment being almsot pitch black -> the only light source being the LEDs on the cable box. And I can almost see plane as day lol.

Shit, how many years did I spend hacking at stuff after nightfall….