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June 8, 2005
Adaptation
It’s amazing what I’ve gotten used to, what’s normal now, and then also, too, what I haven’t adapted to. Let’s start with that. It’s funny even as it happens, one separated self stepping back to provide cupped-chin commentary on the behavior, full of judgement, mockery, and making fun of. That’s the—much improved I’ll grant me—but still not yet erradicated predilective tendency/episodic giving-in to spy a white speck on the floor, pause over it with some scrutiny, then toe it, touch it, flick, pick, brush, or step over it in deciding it’s a derivative of the coca plant. They’re paint chips, paper scraps, bitty clumps of the baking soda that keeps my feet fragrantly fresh (bicarbonation at both ends), asbestos for all I know, but I do know they’re not errant factions of the supply. I know this, yet I just sometimes have to bend other anyway. I’m usually not doing anything better anyway as this only occurs at the end of the night/ripening of the morning when I’ve exhausted my purchase, and too tired or fried to do much of anything, and am just sort of pacing, picking and putting, as I prepare and power-up for a shower or something. It’s a persistent and pathetic tick.
On the other hand, I going 2-3 days without sleeping is old hat. I don’t bat an eye. It’s normal, and ceases to have much effect or fallout. That was really my point, here. That’s amazing enough, no?
To illustrate, and to follow yesterday’s I’m-An-Idiot post, I feel I did damn good work and a hell of a lot of it, too, today in the office. I was running on less sleep, less food, and after more work, yet stopped smoking early enough before starting work that I felt fine, functioned well, and so forth. That’s what the human body can do, boys and girls. And that just goes to show you that no matter the circumstances, regardless of how dire the set-up and lead-in is, you are never better off reasoning that a whole bunch of drugs bought and taken tactically just to get you through the day—to survive, not to fly. It’s not a good idea. It doesn’t work. Remember that next time. Yeah, right. Sure you will.
So, good, nice, that I was visibly productive today, except that it just puts in starker contrast my reserved, glassy-eyed, skittish, nervous, mumbley, own world with air about me performance yesterday. I spend too much time under both circumstances, but especially the drag-ass times, thinking of how one might possibly explain all this. What could capture all of the sysmptoms and handle the inconsistencies and trajectory of it all? I think of scenarios and the reverse of those scenarios. Nothing comes. I suspect nothing could.
Except one little vaguery. It’s perfect. It’s accurate, honest, and true, if a little misleading and incredibly vacant, devoid of meaningful information, as it presents itself as a complete and accepted & acceptable answer. Ready? :: “It’s the medication. If I don’t take it, I’m tired and don’t feel well. If I take it, I’m anxious and sick to my stomach.” Credible. Covering of bases. Delivering of a full explanation without divulging details (and carries a subtext in the undercarriage that says, “that’s all you need to know about it,” which must be respected by all regardless of relative rankings.) But nobody asks. What do they think? What do they say among themselves?
Another bit or bite/byte along the unexplained, demeanor swinging daily nut job lines and relevant to the project as this first that came up today when a couple front-end interviewees came in talking up the CSS takeover, tableless layout wave and way of the future. JR will cede some points but resist it’s use as a fit-all, cure-all approach/methodology. He’s old-school that way. Likes his tables. So I did a tidbit of quarter-assed defending of the CSS way and, sure enough, couldn’t resist establishing credibility and authority with citation of my experience, which are these two bloggies here. Learned a lot from ‘em.
Yeah, so I said “I do tableless layout for one of my sites.” Immediate red flag. M right away goes “one of your sites?” JR’s hot on getting a URL. So I say its for a friend. What, what? they clamor and dig. He’s a musician. Where? What’s the URL? I have nothing decent to say, no way to answer that. I mean, looking back I should have been honest from the get-go. Up front. Like I’ve done before: it’s a site whose function depends on it’s anonymity. Fine. No real big deal. Maybe a little weird to intriguing depending on the disposition of the audience, but that’s it. Now, I’ve made it weird. But also I bring it up because they both start googling around to find it, the not-bidness-mindin’ busybody bastards! And I got scared! A little. I was afraid they’d somehow find something. And then imagine the scene! The public unfolding. The incredulity, awkwardness, anger, my lack of words or any inkling of which emotion and/or countenance to put on: sorry, shruggy, funny, defensive, serious, denying, explaining, evading, blank and checked-out? Yeah, that one. I’m already on my way…
Well, I reminded myself of my precautions and the unlikelyhood, especially at this stage for there to be any linking info, but I did have to face the reality of it. I thought also about that issue, the full frontal honesty policy at work here and how it applies to the sex stuff that’s included. I think it’s part of the story. But it’s a little harder to own up to in some ways than the drug stuff, a little more embarrassing. The proj could be whole without it. But less richer. Thoughts. Concerns.
Posted by peligrito at June 8, 2005 3:32 AM
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