That’s how I am feeling right now.
More importantly, so far I haven’t had any weird metabolic events. So knock on wood there. No sudden fevers or attacks of demonic hunger or the like.
My new mouse (same as the old mouse) will arrive some time today. The currently delivery window is “between 3:15 pm and 7:15 pm”, which seems pretty vague to me but I guess Amazon’s delivery people have a lot more flexibility in their schedule than the workers in their warehouses.
Those warehouses strike me as a very modern kind of purgatory. Huge grey cubes filled with hapless workers picking products to make up orders at a downright inhuman pace in order to please their corporate masters.
But as long as enough people actually can match that pace, they don’t see a problem.
Ironically, 7:15 pm is when we usually leave for Denny’s. So in theory, the package is guaranteed to arrive before we leave, but possibly only minutes before.
No rush. I’ve managed to find a position for the wire connecting my current mouse to the computer where it more or less works as long as I am fairly delicate in my mousing.
Windows spellcheck says that isn’t a word. WELL IT IS NOW.
Take that, tough guy!
Logjams of the mind
Let’s drill down into my decision issues.
We will set aside the emotional problems and the way my depression uses indecision as a cover for my inaction for now, and concentrate on the cognitive side of things only.
Like I have said before, when I come to a decision point, it’s like my mind tries to go in all directions at the same time and sort of ingest the problem, like an amoeba engulfing some poor paramecium.
The microscopic world is so hardcore.
And the engulf and devour cognitive approach works quite well for me overall. It’s very good for learning things and adding that thing to my working model of the world.
Hence my academic brilliance.
But it doesn’t work for decision making except in very limited circumstances, where it is possible to actually calculate an answer.
Either mathematically or via some other logic.
Most of the time, this is not possible. There are too many variables and unknowns. To try to make a decision that way is inane.
Enter emotion. Because if you can’t decide via your intellect you are going to have to insert your own preferences and desires into the equation in order to decide at all.
And I don’t want to do that. To me, that feels too much like just guessing. I want to be able to thoroughly inspect and verify my reasoning before going forward and that is just not possible most of the time.
I can’t possibly know beforehand which is the best choice.
All I can do is make the best decision I can, and live with the consequences. And hopefully, if I do enough of that, my decisions will get better over time.
The inner mind CAN be taught. Your gut instincts CAN get smarter over time.
It just takes a while. And a lot of trial and error.
My future has to include the ability to make semi-arbitrary decisions. I will never have all the facts and even when I do I will not be able to predict and control all outcomes.
The universe, and our highly limited brains, don’t work that way.
So I am hereby giving myself permission to just make shit up as I go. Emphasis on GO. Because this means surrendering my need for control and going into unknown and unknowable territory with only my wits to protect me.
Luckily, I have some pretty good wits.
But in the end it all comes down to control.
Doesn’t it always?
More after the break.
About this whole pet thing
Don’t worry. This is not (I think) an emergent new fetish of mine.
i have enough of those already.
It’s just a way to recontextualize my existence into something more positive than feeling like I am a blight to all who know and love me.
That’s an extremely fucked up way to see myself, but then again, what do you expect? I am mentally ill.
And that’s the thing about mental illness : it’s crazy.
Anyhow, imagining myself as functioning as a pet in people’s lives is definitely a step in the right direction.
It might not exactly have the status of being a full and independent adult, but it at least gives me a way to feel like I contribute something worthwhile to the world just by being my witty and lovable self.
This brings up an intriguing hypothetical : would I be able to take being someone’s human pet in a more formally declared way?
Not in a petplay fetish way. Nobody is putting a collar on ME, motherfuckers, and there is zero chance I will crawl around on all fours with paw shaped mittens on my hands.
But more in being someone’s house-husband in an old-fashioned nuclear family wife sense. Someone who is always there waiting for them when they get home from work with their slippers and housecoat and all the rest.
No pipe though. Because I don’t date smokers.
And yeah, I think I could take that. In fact, I might enjoy it quite a bit. Having a man to support me in an old-fashioned manly way while I cherish and nurture him in an old-fashioned womanly way might actually be the perfect situation for me.
Lord knows I could use a strong male presence to help steady and calm me and hold my hand while I cautiously explore the world.
And in return, I could be the sweet, gentle, soft, accepting and approving mother figure who gives him an island of understanding in a cold cruel world.
Yeah, that actually sounds pretty damn good for me.
And I would have no problem playing a secondary role in the household. I don’t particularly want to be number one or be in charge. And I have no interest in challenging anyone for status.
Fuck that noise.
But I would insist on being treated with dignity and respect. I might be second in charge in a two person household but that does not make me lesser or inferior.
The fact that I am letting him lead does not mean we’re not both dancing.
I hope that makes sense.
I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.