Sonuvagun

Now, that title falls within the realm of decency, doesn't it? One of the things I was taught / learned in my early recovery was to try and change the way I talked. In other words, cut back on my cursing. I did well for a while, back when I was an "acceptable, responsible, and productive" member of today's society. But now...

Yeah, right now, I have that inherent need to cuss & curse. I did so, verbally, just a few minutes ago before I dragged my sorry ass out of bed. Sleep is once more eluding me because of that hamster wheel in my head that wants to go round & round, endlessly searching for insane and useless things to think about.

And, as is my wont, I come to my blog to rant against the inevitable. I really need to just accept that this is who I am and the fact that it will never change. Deal with it, Robb. Mainly because by typing this shit out onto the triple dub isn't going to make it go away.

So. Let me do this one, and I'll stop there.
Fuck!

Keep The Faith*

Mofo

I have that little warning when you come to the Robb Blog about "adult content" blahblah. Well, in the interest of trying to tone down my cursing, the title of this rant has been... well, toned down. What I really want to say is MOTHER-F#%@ER!!!

I've been having issues with diabetic neuropathy pains for the past few months. I guess that is an excellent indicator of how poorly I've been tending this disease of mine over that period. Much like I've ignored my recovery during the same time. I can go a few weeks with nary a pain peep, and then spend a week of nightly wtf pain.

Tonight's battle (today's??) has been particularly excruciating. My normal go-to pain management, first a liberal slathering of Voltaren (tm) then either a single naproxen sodium 220mg or an ibuprofen 400mg (I tried the ibuprofen tonight), has failed miserably.  

For instance, it took me more than 20 minutes to get the previous paragraph typed because of the continuous leg & foot cramps & stabbing pain I've been getting. I need to get up and walk a bit to reduce it all. As far as sleep is concerned, well, I can walk but once I lie down, I can feel that fucking cramp sneaking in and BOOM!!

I am SO mofo tired right now. I just want to sleep. My blood sugars are OK (8.1 mmols). But, fuck fuck fuck fuck, etc and so on, my lower legs, mostly my left tonight, are driving me insane. I'd go take a hot bubble bath, a sometimes help, but I don't want to try to get out of a bath tub quickly. Especially with how my right knee feels somewhat locked after resting on it for far too long today trying to solve the leak mystery... yeah, and that is a WHOLE nuther story...

OK. I just had 15 minutes of relative pain free typing. I can still feel the odd tingle here & there, and that only means this fucking ailment is just biding its time, waiting for me to sack out before it comes roaring back.

I dunno. Maybe I just shoulda stayed home today, judging by the insanity I faced throughout. Happy clean date, Robb! Ya stumbled thru another year! And if yesterday is any indication of things to come... just go look at the title again......

Keep The Faith*

25 Years

Yup. Time sure flies when you're having fun!

Wait!! Am I having fun, yet? Hard to tell some daze. But, still, today is my 25 year clean date. Ain't that something?! I got the clean thing done. The serene bit is still a work in progress, tho'.

April 14. Today is also Bernie's birthday. Another significant, and dear to my heart, day in my ongoing life on this planet. She would have been... what? Let's see... dit-de-dah... carry the 2... ummm... 55 today. Jeepers, I suddenly feel rather old.

Oh well. I got 30 years past my "best before" date. Meaning, I never expected to live past 30 during my bad-ass using daze. Well, then again, I also expected to win the Briar and the Silver Broom before the age of 30, also. 

Anyway. Here I be on the actual Good Friday, about to head off to my dad's house to tackle the wet basement situation and toast my 25 year clean date with a fine cup of Macs coffee. >>>shudder<<<

Keep The Faith*

Polaroid Link 4" Cell Phone

Have you ever owned a Polaroid cell phone? Well, I would highly recommend it!

About 2 months ago, I lost mine while shoveling snow at my dad's house. Never could find it, even after calling my number numerous times around the house & outside, listening for my ringtone.

Last Sunday, we went to the house for start the final cleaning of the place. We parked on the street. Getting out of the car, Amber saw something about 4' up in the cedar hedge. Lo and behold, there sat my phone!

We all thought it would be toast, after all, it was sitting in the elements (rain, snow, cold, wind, sunshine, etc) for quite some time. But, & I mean BUT, I took it home, sealed it in a bag with some silica packets to absorb whatever moisture may be in it, plugged the sucker in & let it charge overnight.

My, my, but imagine my surprise when the darned thing started up and acted as if it never left my side! The two images show the only lasting effect on it. Under a black background showing my home screen, it looks fine. With a white or light background, you can see a stain, but it doesn't interfere with reading whatever is there.

So, lemme tell ya, if you are looking for an Android phone, let me suggest the Polaroid Link! I sure am one happy customer!!

Keep The Faith*

EDIT: The reason, I believe, that the phone ended up 4' in a cedar hedge is that I lost during a shovel of the driveway. Later on, the contractor who clears the laneway gobbled the phone up & spit it out into the hedge. So, not only did it survive extreme weather, the phone went thru the indignity of being swallowed up and regurgitated by a monster snowblower!
EDIT #2: I took a couple of staged pics to show where the cell ended up in the hedge. AND, the "stain" in the display is gone! Now, the phone is just as it has been before I lost it! Polaroid Link 4... Helluva cell phone!!

Gee Whiz, eh

I've got the darndest feeling that there is oh-so much I need to do to get my life into some sort of order. I spent almost 2 years heading out to my dad's place to help him... um, well, just be, I guess. To ensure he ate relatively well and balanced, to make sure that life is going as well as well can be and to just keep him company. It was only 4 days out of the week, but those four days, and the three I spent at home, completely enveloped who I was and what I did.

Now... now, that he is gone... where am I? In my apartment right now, to be sure. For the past couple of months, I have been zipping out to the old man's house to clear it from 40+ years of accumulated stuff. And now, since the house is empty and all that is left is to clean and sweep and wash and vacuum... gee whiz.

What the living frell am I to do with my time now? I have been so set in my ways that I forget what I did before the dementia, etc. set in. I have my catfishing coming up in a couple of weeks, then there is the so-called "regular" fishing in the summer. BUT. But, WTF do I do now?

Meetings? Sure, I could fill about five or six hours each day going to, sitting thru and coming home from a meeting. I could probably spend good time whining about my current life today at said meeting. There is the possibility of me looking outside myself and helping another member travel along their own path of Recovery. And service...

Bing! Been there. Done that. Burned the fucking T-shirt. All that Recovery shit did its thing way back in the day. Trouble is, Service took over what and who I was. And by Service, I mean the meetings, the sponsorship, the sharing, the Home Group, the committees, the yadda-yadda and the blahblahblah...

Much as I have told the newcomer that Recovery needs to be the be-all and end-all of their life... Holy Fuck! Here I be, right now, thinking that Recovery does not need to be the be-all and... etc. of MY life!

Fuck me! But what else do I have?? I tried to work. Fucked by my tremors (& they call them "essential"!). Fucked by a knee that no CT or MRI scan can find shyte. Fucked by my eyesight that denies me a drivers license.
pfft, enough cursing...

I wanted to go biking, but my cycle was stolen. $600+ down the drain. I wanted to do stealth camping... and the bike was integral to that. I kinda gave up on fishing... but all impediments there are now gone, so...

Fishing.
Or get that danged drone out and get it flying.
Clean my mofo apartment!
Spring white-tail deer antler shed search?
Photography / video.
Jack off?

I don't know! I have lost rhythm to my life, much as I was starting to despise the previous beat. I guess it will be just a matter of finding that beat that fits me in its time. Right now, I feel fucked. Tomorrow? Ha, I'll sleep on that one...

Keep The Faith*

Sleepless In...

Well, Ottawa, eh. 

After a long and very busy day emptying out my dad's house today (yesterday, actually), I suppose all that physical stimulation has turned itself into mental distraction.

In keeping with years of repeating myself, once again I am faced with a brain that wants to zip all over the place. Meditation techniques I have learned, mental exercises to calm the mind, just don't want to work. My soothing ambience sounds and wave generator on my iPoop aren't working, either. And the 6 (SIX!) mg of melatonin haven't fazed me a bit.

Here I be, at 01.30 hrs, typing away on my new compact Logitech keyboard, waiting for sleepiness to come round. I made some crackers & butter (I know. Eating ain't a good idea), made a cuppa tea (Shut up. I know!!) and plan to watch a wee bit of Netflix. Maybe if I tune into their newest brainchild, Netflix Live, that will bore the wakefulness out of me. - Imagine watching a toaster toast a couple of slices of bread while Will Arnett narrates the scene. BoRiNg!!! -

Keep The Faith*