I was kind of surprised at how much effort went into this one.
Mmmaybe I should start picking the thumbnails myself.
Then again, if it gets the clicks… clicks for dicks, you might say…
But yeah, I was a little surprised when I finished making the thing and it was past 3:30 pm, meaning that it took me over an hour and a half to make a two minute slideshow.
And I was tired, too.
Wow, imagine if I actually took these things seriously and tried to focus down and make the absolute best videos I can make and really push hard on putting them anywhere they might get noticed and dedicated my life to getting big on YouTube.
Wow, what a great way to become crippled by anxiety and self-doubt.
I mean, I am not saying it’s out of the question. But I have never operated like that before. I have zero experience with buckling down.
I’ve never had to.
I think the only way to get me to work hard like that is if I go in the opposite direction and keep on not taking it seriously at all but treating it all like a big game, including promoting myself et al, and having the most fun I can that way.
That sounds way more sustainable. If I go for the hard driving approach, I know exactly what will happen ; the moment my initial impetus fades, I will crash and lose all motivation, drive, and focus in favor of doing what I always do.
Namely withdrawing into myself and letting the world outside my turtle shell fall apart.
That’s how so many bright and noble ambitions of mine have met their untimely demise. I just can’t sustain the momentum. It’s like I’m a rocket with only one burn.
So if that one burn doesn’t get me into orbit, I crash back down to Earth.
And odds are I won’t try again for a very long time.
I think to keep on pushing like that takes some kind of burning passion driving you to be ambitious and bold, as well as a deep well of personal energy.
I’m not like that. I’m a more relaxed, lackadaisical kind of guy. I need to do things joyfully and freely and with a sense of fun and excitement.
Or at least I think I do. I have yet to test this radical new theory of what works for me. It’s going to require a serious rerouting of most of my personality and the breaking of some very ancient habits of thought, and that’s rather tough.
As usual, I can see my destination – a freer and happier and more engaged me – but I don’t know how to get there.
Just got to keep feeling my way around, I guess. As always, I have to “learn to fly” – take my mind the places it needs to go to get the things it needs in order to thrive without it having to be logical or justified or “make sense”.
That requires a true leap of faith, a leap away from the known into a discontinuous world defined not by “logic” or “sense” but by my own mind and my own needs.
I keep telling myself that I don’t need reality’s permission to feel good. That I can imagine and invent whatever I need via my powerfully creative mind without worrying about connecting it to the real world in any logical sense.
I think that’s what healthy people can do. They don’t realize it, but they can.
Deep in the bowels of their minds (so to speak) they have a program running that deploys when mood dips low in order to keep their mood afloat.
Mine sinks to the bottom because I don’t have that lifeboat.
Or maybe I do, and there’s just too much heavy baggage in mine.
More after the break.
These old bones
I’ve been feeling rather creaky lately.
You know, rusty. Stiff. It really feels like entropy is working overtime to make sure that if any part of me remains still, it seizes up in that position and when I go to move it again I have resistance to overcome like I’m the Tin Man after a rainstorm.
So where’s my little girl with the oil can? Because I need some serious lubricating.
This is a fairly alarming symptom. Good thing I have a phone appointment with the doctor tomorrow so I can talk about it with them.
It won’t be my usual GP, Doctor Chao. He’s away, apparently. It will be his locum, whose name I was told and then instantly forgot.
Good thing they’re the one calling me.
In fact the whole thing was their idea. They called me to make the appointment, which is normally an uh-oh, but I know why they are calling this time.
When I was with the physiotherapist, I told her that I was starting to leak a little. My urinary sphincter doesn’t quite close all the way, it seems, and so a little tiny bit of pee leaks out when I get up and move and things slosh about.
A distressing sign when you’re a man my age.
The physio wrote that down in her file and I imagine that’s what led to the phone call from my GP’s office.
I hope it’s nothing serious. Something that can be fixed with medication or maybe some minor bit of outpatient surgery.
The nightmare, of course, is ending up needing to be in adult diapers. I honestly do not think I could handle that. I might never leave the apartment again if it means I have to worry about crinkling in public and revealing my shame.
So hopefully it’s just the usual older man enlarged prostate BS, and who knows, maybe they have a shot for that now.
Or, sigh, yet another medication for me to take.
At least we’re catching it early!
I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.