Witness the power of a day without diet cola.
Because I have been sleeping all damned day.
Turns out I never needed a sleeping pill. I just needed to lay off the frigging caffeine for a day or two.
This is better, though, because the sleep is more relaxed and natural. Less of the feeling horrible when I wake up because I’ve been throttling in my sleep.
Turns out sleeping pills and obstructive sleep apnea are a bad mix. The pills make the throat relax even more, which only increases the obstruction.
No wonder I feel so horrid after taking them,
The fact that I did have a lil bit of alcohol with last night’s lovely Xmas dinner might also be a contributing factor, I suppose.
I’ve often considered the medicinal benefits of the old “glass of wine at bedtime”. Though knowing me, it would probably be a vodka and OJ instead.
But I am way too wary of becoming an alcoholic to risk it. I have the exact sort of escapist depressive personality that is prone to addiction.
Give me a way to escape my depression and I will be addicted to it in a heartbeat.
Besides, I’m already addicted to video games and overeating. My card is full.
Meh, I’m still frigging sleepy. I’m going to go right back to bed after I finish blogging. Hopefully that will give me enough energy to get through my weekly shopping and make it to Denny’s, where I can drink all the Diet Coke I need.
It’s good to have goals.
Had a nice enough Xmas. Dinner with Joe’s family last night was lovely as always. Had some naughty things, including the alcohol.
Diabetes and alcohol don’t mix well either.
Had some naughty dessert, including some Scottish shortbread. Heaven.
Picked up a bit of trivia too : turns out it was when a princess who had been raised in France ended up in Scotland (poor thing!) that Scottish shortbread got so good.
Turns out it was her trying to recreate the pastry from back home!
I’ve always thought Scottish shortbread tasted like French pastry, and it turned out there was a reason for that!
But honestly, what I enjoyed even more was just plain potato chips. God, how I have missed them! Along with all the other temptations of the snack aisle like cheesies and pretzels and tortilla chips.
But it’s all carbs, so it all had to go.
Ah well, at least I used my nutritional vacation well.
Meh, not easy to make the words happen when I am this tired. Feels like I am trying to ice skate uphill.
Makes me wish I had stopped at the 7-11 on the way home from Xmas dinner for a 2L bottle of Diet Coke, like I had planned.
But no, I was all “Nah, I don’t need it, what’s the worst that could happen?”
I guess now I know. And I suppose it’s not all THAT bad.
Just kind of a pain
More after the break.
Hit total to exit
So with all this mind expanding stuff about the potential utility of hippie dippy bullshit and the power of believing in lies if they help floating around in my head, I feel like my mind is patiently but passionately trying to come to some kind of conclusion.
Something involving an exit from my repressive rationality in favour of a much more fun and flexible approach to life that handles the bumps, shocks, and counterpunches of life far better than my previous crusty “sensible” approach ever could.
A serious upgrade of my soul’s suspension system, essentially.
Because all attempts at stasis are futile. Running to stand still is the only way to get even the illusion of continuity. If you want to keep up with life, you have to roll with the punches and keep plodding along at speed.
There’s no future in trying to be an invulnerable statue that stays the same as the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune shatter harmlessly against its shiny surface.
Why? Erosion, motherfucker. The waves always win. They are eternal and I am just another rock on the water’s edge. Staying the same is impossible.
Renewal, however, is not. Living things regenerate. The only reason any of us are still here is because our bodies are constantly replacing what we lose. At our cores are factories producing fresh new vital cells that are slowly pushed up by the cells being made below until they too reach the surface and are shed.
Life, then, is a matter of constant growth and release. Even the oldest tree in the forest is not the same tree it was ten years ago.
Now where was I? Oh yeah.
The point of all that was to make the case for a more open and flexible approach to life. To being more alive, to put it another way.
And that means no longer being bound to the world of logic, rationality, and “the truth”.
Fuck the truth. What is truth next to happiness? Is being realistically miserable really better than being deludedly happy?
I used to think so but now I’m not so sure.
The theory was that only “the truth” was trustworthy, and therefore you were better off investing your emotions in truth’s solid ground than building castles in the air.
But it’s not that simple, is it?
Because once more. there are more than two options. It’s not just a matter of solid truth versus nebulous fantasy.
There can be lies that are “true enough” to be worth believing for the benefits you get.
There can be fake truths that seem rock solid but only because you’ve made large and largely unsupportable assumptions.
There can even be questions for which no solid answer is possible.
All in all, you are better off composing your own reality out of what phenomenological components you happen to have on hand.
I mean, that’s what everyone ends up doing in the end anyhow.
Might as well be honest about it.
I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.