My cortisone shot has decided to draw to a close.

rsmurphy wrote: Thu Sep 22, 2022 1:50 pm cortisone shot

I need to come up with a cocktail worthy of that name.

enframed wrote: Thu Sep 22, 2022 4:49 pm I need to come up with a cocktail worthy of that name.

If I die you have permission to excise my big toe for your drink, sourtoe cocktail stylee.

After more than a year of utterly stupid stubbornness in refusing to wear my prescription reading glasses, during which time my eyesight has likely gotten worse and my eyes constantly hurt because of straining, I have them back on today.

I am a fucking idiot.

Related:

Getting mad at your food as it approaches your mouth because you can't see it properly.
This has been a new thing for me with my failing eyesight.
There could be fucking ants on there for all I know! In any case, it certainly strangely stresses me out and takes some of the pleasure out of eating.

I just hit 50. I’m still in decent shape and good health other than being in remission for blood cancer. But looking in the mirror is hard. My mental “age” doesn’t look back at me. I think most people enjoyed work friendships etc in your 20/30s. You socialise outside of work, people flirt, sometimes hook up. Now if I sit with the “young people” at work during lunch they clam up and clearly see me as a boss. So I stopped. Knowing that women in the past you would have flirted with just see you as some old dude sucks. But thank gods I’m self aware enough to know that. There’s nothing worse than the “Hello Fellow Kids” folks.

We live on a college campus as part of my partner's compensation. Couple things spring to mind:

I would have been tickled shitless as a young man to think I was gonna be 36, living on a progressive college campus where the kids love nothing better than to be naked. As it stands, I feel uncomfortably old and try not to stare.

My work schedule is not conducive to the hours they operate. Late nights running up and down the stairs, yelling and cracking open beers. Whippets or some shit. Boofing. What have you.

The kid that lives above us with a heavy step has people over constantly. Always with the racket. One of these days I'm gonna crack and lose it. I desperately do not want to do that, because who the fuck am I? I am horrified at the thought of stomping up there in a bathrobe like a asshole.

I sleep like trash even when the kids aren't acting fools, but I think that has more to do with being sober and anxious than age.

I work a lot of overtime because I'm worried about the future with my partner. The misanthropy and addiction of my young adult life means I'm not raking in the cash. Was talking to my brother about all the work I'm working. He pointed out our dad worked a lotta OT, and he is a asshole. That fucked me up. Real bad.

I get emotional at odd times, like talking to my brother about that or whenever there is soft, gentle, "come on down to the altar and pray" style piano music playing.

Some good things, though.

My niece and nephews adore me. I have found my calling as an Uncle. I am an incredible Uncle.

The red in my facial hair is going grey. I think it looks cool.

I've accumulated some cool music gear. Several ProCo Rats. Left handed guitars.

Somewhere along the way, I figured out being smart hurts a lot less than being tough, and is way more realistic than being lucky. I usually know the dumbest thing to say or do and I try not to do that.

I try not to commodify people, but my partner is in so many ways a reward for trying to straighten up and fly right in the past 6 years. I would not have gotten the time of day from her in my 20s. She is a fuckin smokeshow, too good for me, and tells me I am handsome.

One of my favorite things now is hanging out with my elderly cat. It's gonna be awful when I don't have her anymore.

Time is so very different in my early 40's than it was in my early 20's. Today a year scoots by with what used to be a month. That's a blessing and a curse. If I'm tired of winter, stuck in a dentist chair, anticipating some event the minutes or days can just whip past my face like a spaceman. But anything approaching a fun time is very fleeting. I have to coach myself to be present and savor a moment.

The other paradox is busyness. There's way less time to hang out or create but I'm creatively way more productive. If it might have taken me a month to locate my muse, or an hour to move band practice from chatter to music, now give me 15 minutes. I can probably start hatching a new song, or the guys can rip through a few tunes to freshen them up.

jimmy spako wrote: Wed Mar 12, 2025 10:18 am Related:

Getting mad at your food as it approaches your mouth because you can't see it properly.
This has been a new thing for me with my failing eyesight.
There could be fucking ants on there for all I know! In any case, it certainly strangely stresses me out and takes some of the pleasure out of eating.

Heh, when I eat now and I am not wearing my readers I always think of the scene in Lost Boys when the rice is seen as maggots.

Seriously, being able to see food makes eating so much more pleasurable.