On today’s journey into my broken palsied flesh, head mucus.
Because right now, my sinuses are stuffed up and giving me a headache and making me a little dizzy and lightheaded as their bony protuberances squish my brain.
Of course, that’s only a theory.
And the thing is, I feel like this a lot. And I am beginning to wonder about that, because I have felt like this for a long time.
I’m starting to think head mucus isn’t the issue. There’s just something fundamentally fucked up about my skull.
Because why should it be any different than the rest of me?
I vaguely recall my mother telling me that my Pepe had a serious sinus issue that required surgical intervention and that his life was way, way better afterwards.
Food for thought. Something to bring up with my GP, assuming he still exists. I have been trying to call him about a pill refill for days now.
The kicker is that one time the line was busy. Suggesting someone is there, they are just not picking up the phone.
Well, or that someone else was trying to call at the same time. It behooves me to try and keep my raging paranoia tamped down from time to time.
But still, I need my doctor and my doctor ain’t answering the phone. I need those pills to control my diabetes god dammit.
There’s nothing else for it, I’m gonna have to call my pharmacist and ask for an emergency refill. They can totally do that.
Doesn’t make me any less mad at my frigging doctor, though.
Pharmacy phoned. Emergency refill obtained. Julian will pick up my pills in the near future. Problem solved.
LIKE A BOSS.
In other extremely local news, I am giving Instacart another try. They are a grocery delivery gig economy type thing, and I tried them before but they didn’t like my credit card, and I had a sad.
But this time it seems to have worked. The website is way slicker and more attractive now so I think they finally got their poop in a group.
If so, I may never order from the 7-11 or the Ironwood Sav-on again, because I am sick of 7-11 not having 2L of Diet Coke any more and just as sick of Sav-on not actually giving me what I ordered.
Same charge though. Ten bucks. Oh well.
This time I ordered via Canadian Superstore. They always have good prices.
But get this : They didn’t have 2L of Diet Coke either! I ended up ordering 4 500 ml bottles instead, which I paid too much for.
Shit… that should have been 8. I drink that shit 1L at a time.
Oh well. Perhaps I will order from someplace like Pizza Hut tonight. Someone that can sell me my precious 2Ls of Diet Coke along with my meal.
I have to admit, this is starting to feel personal. Like the universe is attacking my one little pet vice. 2L of Diet Coke are my habit and they are getting weirdly scarce.
It’s like they are secretly plotting to replace Diet Coke with Coke Zero! NOOO!
Oh right. Going to keep a lid on the paranoia. Riiiiight.
Still, it’s weird.
Not even nihilism.
Watched the vid above today as part of my new obsession with deep analyses of Rick and Morty as expressed in the medium of YouTube videos.
First, let me get an anti-nihilist rant off my chest. Then sane analysis will return.
Ahem. Nihilism is a childish overreaction to the discovery that the universe doesn’t come pre-installed with an inherent meaning, purpose, or plan. Oh boo fucking hoo. Toy actually have to create meaning and purpose yourself. Big frigging deal.
I’ve never understood why people would think there was an inherent meaning to life in the first place. Meaning to who? As for purpose, whose purpose? Where would all this meaning, order, purpose, and free cheese fries every Tuesday night supposed to come from? These are concepts that cannot exist without a mind. Whose mind?
God. The only possible answer is God. It might be a God of profound cosmic vagueness, an idea that there is “something” out there, but call it what you like, you are still saying that where there is a clock there is a clockmaker.
But there isn’t. There is no cosmic parent watching us play. Nobody to punish the bad kids and reward the good kids. Nobody trying to keep us from harm. No ultimate source of moral guidance. No grand shepherd to lead us to the good life and happiness and all that other neat stuff.
We are tiny, we are helpless, and we are alone.
There isn’t even a cosmic mind to dream us all up. There is only us humans. We are the grownups. We are our own keepers. We are on our own.
We are in charge.
And nobody else seems to see that. Perhaps it takes someone raised completely outside religion like myself to see it.
You’re welcome, world!
My best guess as to the origin of this persistent delusion of cosmic meaning and purpose is that it’s our tribe based social instincts telling us that somewhere, there’s a chief, and work that needs to be done, and a job you are supposed to be doing, and as long as you are doing that job well, you are “good”.
But there is no chief, tribe, village, or job. There’s just us monkeys, man.
This does not make me despair, though. Perhaps that is because I never thought there was meaning in the first place, but my point is that despair is not the only option.
I find it quite liberating myself. We are free to make the world we want to live in, with no intergalactic overseer to tell us what we can and cannot do.
We’re all alone with a million Legos, folks.
Let’s see what we can make,
I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.