I have not abandoned the blogging, but have been very busy with the volunteering and work. What a change from the bad old times at the previous agencia. This one is enjoyable and entertaining (often) and ultimately useful to me because I can be useful to it in its purpose.
I do have ideas and pictures and things, I just need the time and memory to put them here.
I know I promised a post a day, and kept that up for far longer than I thought I could.
Usually the title is cited in data analysis, but it also applies to other situations, such as this one.
I feel like blogging about my medical problem(s). If you’re not interested you can skip this post.
To be clear, I’m not expecting a diagnosis from my readers. I am seeing a doctor about this.
Does anyone else feel this way?
I have a… well not a problem, since it doesn’t really cause me any loss, but… let’s say a mental twitch.
…is about how I feel every Sunday. Bloodless and exhausted. There is nothing a-going on, nothing doing. No mail, no Emails (usually), no business conducted, nothing I have interest in.
It is also (today at least) overcast, slightly chilly and gloomy. In fact, this blog post is the most ambitious thing I’ve done so far. Everything else was either lazy (reading) or needed (eating, chicken work).
I hope you have better times on Sundays.
I live in a rural area. Unfortunately, I don’t share the same mindset as 90+% of the people around here. They are, to quote a public figure who interacts with a broad cross-section of society, not very cosmopolitan.
I will run the risk of being called names and say they are just plain shallow, uneducated and mostly closed-minded. If you know the stereotype about “inner city poor”, it is mostly applicable out here.
The upshot of this is that I really don’t know anyone who I would want to hang out with come the weekend. We have so little in common that it would be hard for either of us to meet in the middle and pretend that we want to be around each other.
To make it worse, this weekend I don’t have any PT work I can do to keep my mind occupied, I just have my chicekns, which I can’t talk to.
I have a book (well, many books) I could read, but the loneliness is weighing on me and oddly keeping my from enjoying being alone.
I have a theory. We all know about “chicken math“1, but I suspect there are other suppositious chicken Laws. So:
- Happiness is a warm cycen
- The warmer the cycen feels to you, the happier you are, unless it is overheating or you are freezing it.
- So, as you are heated by it, really it is generating happiness in you, fed by the heat.
- A dirty warm cycen is not happiness to most people, though it might be.
- The dirt on a cycen must be accounted for by a fouling factor somehow. It is essentially how dirty the cycen would make your hands/face if you touched it.
Of course, the only works if you like chickens, otherwise they may annoy you.