Woke this morning, headphones on and AC/DC playing, got another two days of writing exercises finished. This means I am roughly four days ahead. After this morning’s writing post that will drop to three days ahead.
I like having a few days in the “buffer”. This lets me attend to other aspects of living without stress over the writing. I can then, also take a little more time in doing the editing, if any at all.
Sitting here in the early morning I find a sense of peace. The nephews are finally back to school, regular, hopefully. They will likely have a week of snow days.
I loved doing the work I did yesterday. It felt good to help out my father in law. For me it is a simple matter of not feeling like a free loading ass. I live here, stands to reason I do a little something to help out. And this is family, no need to be paid by family.
Father in law had gone out once yesterday, a run to the nearest gas station. It is halfway between us and the town. We call it “Hilly World”. He needed to gas up a little and get a few things. Before he left he came to our bedroom, stuck his head in to ask if we needed anything.
I jokingly said he could get me a pack of smokes. Told him I was joking. I had made up three packs of roll your own, was good to go. Well, later on in the day he and my wife had to go out again. She returned and found me in the bedroom taking a break.
She hands me a small brown paper bag. In the bag was two packs of smokes. I told her, “he didn’t need to do that.” She replied that he felt he ought to after I had put in at least a good four to six hours of work, for home. She also had got the worming medicine. So, today we’ll get the pups medicated for the first course.
Am hopeful that soon I can get through the hassle of court for disability. Hopefully, I can get onto that. It hurts not feeling like I contribute enough at home. Yes, I know that I do some good in the helping out. I know it is appreciated. Also know at times a steady income to offer paying rent, or helping defer other costs, would be appreciated too.
My therapist seems to agree with my self diagnose. The disability I suffer is no tolerance for stupidity, even my own at times. And yes, I know a difference between stupid and ignorant. Ignorance can be cured by giving someone awareness, learning. Stupid has no cure, easy or difficult. The only one I can see is akin to the scene from Last Man Standing. “I killed your best man, Finn.”, Bruce Willis’ character says. “Only cure for stupidity”, the Doyle character says.
That does not fly in reality though. I know that too. Sorry, I’ll keep away from a noose, lethal injection, toaster chair as long as I can. Kind of afraid a toaster chair would fail to work with me. *chuckles* I would probably laugh in the grip of the pain, tell them to crank it up higher.
We had a grandfather when we were younger whom would grab onto an electric fence wire and walk the line out. He would be doubled over and hunched down when he started out. At the end of the line, his arthritis would let up and he stood tall. He kept the line running about twice the needed requirement for holding off the cattle.
Sometimes, I think maybe such a thing could help my arthritis as well. Other times, I am not sure. Hate feeling so unsure, so confused by the fools who list me as a bit mentally fouled, yet can not determine how I am fouled. They write it up as NOS, Not Otherwise Stated. This is their broad spectrum way to say “yeah, he’s a nut but we can’t classify what type of nut.”
My wife laughs and tells me I’m her type of nut. Guess it is good to fit somewhere. *grins* Well, been rambling too much, need coffee.