Today marks 19 years since I moved from Atlanta to Indianapolis. I’ve lived here longer than anywhere. I have more connections here than anywhere. Yet, there is this eternal, nagging feeling that this is not home. I constantly question whether I’m doing anyone any good by being here. Two weeks in, I knew I had made a horrible mistake, but I was contractually obligated at the time, and by the time that contract was over, I was too broke to move back. That condition has remained the same ever since, and now Atlanta’s changed so much that I can’t see myself returning there. I’m not sure there’s anywhere now where I’m going to feel at home.
There is no way today is a good day. The rain kept me in pain, tossing and turning all night. I’ve had the headache from hell all night but I can’t take more pain meds until after 7:00. I gave up and decided to sit at the desk a little after 4. The dogs started pawing at me around 4:30, but I tried putting them off until at least 6. When they paw, they scratch, and my skin is fragile enough that it bleeds. So, at 5:00 I finally relented and let them out. When we came in, as per routine, I fed them and the cats. If I don’t feed the cats they get loud. Apparently, that was a mistake. The dogs eating woke Kat up and now she’s pissed at me.
The rain will continue to fall all day. My body hasn’t liked rain for years because of the arthritis. In my current condition, all pain levels are elevated. I can’t sleep. Eating is difficult. Walking is difficult. Sitting isn’t comfortable. There’s nothing about this existence that’s going to feel good no matter what I do. I’ve shut the door to the Recovery Room and will do my best to stay away from other people so that I don’t ruin the day for everyone who has to put up with me.
19 years ago, I was contractually obligated to be in Indianapolis on this date. That meant I had to leave on Ben’s 10th birthday. There was a big party going on in his grandparent’s yard when I had to say goodbye. He seemed annoyed that I was interrupting his fun. After all, it was his birthday. There were more important things than Dad leaving, right?
I didn’t get to talk to him yesterday. I messaged him, left him a voicemail, but his life still has too many other things going on. I hear from Ben the least. I’m not sure where he’s working or what’s going on in his personal life. From his perspective, it probably doesn’t matter. It never has. Even when his mom and I first separated, I’d call in the evening and after a couple of weeks Ben told me, “Dad, you know you don’t have to call every night.”
What I did get was a very attractive picture of Gabe, my third in line. His hair is about the same length as mine now, only more full, like mine was when I was young. He turns 26 next week. My leaving hurt him the most. He didn’t understand that I wasn’t coming back for his birthday. The phone call I fielded that afternoon still hurts me today. I wasn’t there for my baby. I should have broken the fucking contract and gone back.
Now, I worry how much I’ll disappoint G and Tipper. I need to find someplace to live where someone can take of me without being stressed, if such a place exists. I’ll be leaving two more kids that I love. Maybe they’ll be like Ben and it won’t bother them that I’m gone, that I won’t be here in the morning or when they get home from school. After all, they have their own friends, do their own thing, spend a lot of time in their rooms on the phone or in games. If I’m lucky, they won’t miss me.
Groceries yesterday totalled a touch over $330 including a 44-pound bag of dog food that I struggled to wrangle into the house. One of the issues with having groceries delivered is that it is only right that the shopper be tipped. A 15% tip on yesterday’s order was just short of $45. I would have rather paid a friend to take me and walk with me as I did the shopping myself. It would have been more productive. 12 items were substituted out of a list of 30. That’s over 30%. I have trouble believing that the only substitute available for frozen french fries was “potato puffs.” When I ask for a frozen family meal, an individual meal is not an adequate substitute. Isn’t that just common sense? Apparently not.
Food items and their costs are only going to get worse. There’s nothing I can do to stop that. Earlier this morning I was reading that more companies are looking for ways to reduce the amount of cocoa in their products, including candy makers such as Mars and Hershey. Global warming and disease are to blame. Resources have diminished so dramatically that it is not sustainable for companies to continue using high-price ingredients even if they raise the price. They know that there’s a limit to how much people are willing to pay for a 2.5-ounce candy bar.
The problem isn’t just with cocoa, though. Last year, coffee prices took a huge jump after supplies ran dangerously low. That’s why you’re paying $6 for a six-ounce cup of your favorite brew. Part of the issue is that competitive alternatives, such as mushroom coffee, still contain bean coffee in some form. By the time you add in the cost of the additional processing, the alternatives cost more than the original, making them not so much of an alternative for anyone who’s on a budget, and who isn’t on a budget? More and more of the things we at are being affected by the weather and the result is we’re paying higher prices at the store.
Of course, it would be insensitive of me to not mention that at least we can get to food. There are still millions upon millions of people around the world for whom food is a pipe dream. They keep hoping for relief and each day their hopes are dashed. The problem isn’t so much a lack of food, but a lack of desire to solve the fucking problem. As I mentioned a couple of days ago, billionaires could eliminate hunger completely by 2030. They just have zero motivation to do so.
There is no sunshine today, only gray. This has taken long enough that I can take more pain meds now. Maybe I’ll be able to sleep. I’m not expecting anything to be any better later in the day, though. Why would it? Life is little more than a string of pain punctuated by disappointment.
Morning Update: 07/30/24
We’re into day three of the new school year and I think I’m the only one who’s having trouble adjusting. Both kids were up and active at 5:45 this morning without any prompting. G is still in a bit of a sour mood, dismayed at how slowly the Lab is ramping up (giving new students a chance to adjust to their unique schedule). Tipper, on the other hand, is excited to have made a friend who is also a furry. They’ve been wearing a fox tail to school, so today Tipper is wearing hers as well. I’ll be interested to see how that goes.
There was a kerfuffle with the bus system yesterday afternoon that caused both kids to be late getting home. They need to take two buses to get home, 8 and 15. Route 8 takes them from the school to the transit center. 15 takes them from the transit center to a stop on the North side of the neighborhood. Both kids were standing at the Route 8 stop when the bus pulled up. The driver opened the door, told the kids that the bus was full, and drove on. However, the kids could see that the bus was far from being full. The driver simply didn’t want a bunch of high school kids on his bus. Fortunately, there was another bus 15 minutes later, but that was too late for them to catch the Route 15 bus. The Route 15 bus only runs once an hour, leaving the kids stuck at the transit center waiting for the next bus.
Yes, I’ve already contacted IndyGo about the matter. I’m not necessarily expecting a response. Either they’ll fix the problem or not. If this happens again, the Mayor’s office will be getting a phone call. While the two kids together make a rather formidable team, they’re still relatively young teens and still vulnerable to the actions of those with ill intent. I’ve let IndyGo know that we hold them responsible for the kids’ safety when situations like this occur. Dad’s not putting up with any nonsense.
My day didn’t go so well. I needed to do some mowing. The grass is getting tall. I went out around 8:30 to mow the right-of-way areas outside our fence. The grass was still far too wet. I had to push hard to get the mower through the grass on the West side of the house. That was as much as I could do. The North side is still waiting. I came back in, my chest tight and hurting, took my meds, and chatted with Kat until she left. I forced myself to eat lunch, which turned out to be a mistake, then went to bed. I stayed there until this morning. I was awake, mind you, long enough to talk with the kids. They kept me updated on the bus issue via text. By the time the kids were home, though, they were both exhausted. They each fixed themselves a smoothie and then went to bed. They did get up later just long enough to handle their chores, but they saved all the chatter for this morning.
The lawn still needs to be mowed. The grass on the East side of the house is getting thick. With the chances for rain dominating the forecast for the rest of the week, it will likely be Saturday before we can even consider taking a swipe at it, and by then it may be too thick to handle easily. We may need some help. We’ll see.
My first glance at my phone this morning had me going, “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!” Israel has really stepped in it this time. First, they’ve apparently assassinated the head of Hamas, Ismael Haniyeh, who was in Tehran for the inauguration of Iran’s new President. THEN, they did exactly what the US and other NATO countries asked them not to do, bombed Beirut, and killed a major Hezbollah leader. The actions have Iran’s leadership furious and vowing retaliation, further broadening the war. Already, the price of oil, which had been going down, has shot up, the prices only capped by Chinese rules. There’s no way this ends well. Iran’s been looking for an excuse to get further involved in the war and Israel just gave them two.
Matters aren’t looking any better in Venezuela. The Carter Center was unable to verify Venezuela’s election results, blasting officials for a lack of transparency. Meanwhile, President Maduro vows to detain defiant leaders of the opposition as they challenge the election results. Peru has recalled their ambassador, saying they’ll not tolerate any violation of the people’s will. Other South American countries may do the same. Chaos continues throughout the country as charges of election interference run rampant. I’m going to say it again, this is the US in 98 days if we don’t produce such a dominant turnout as to leave no question about the results. Even a 60/40 win isn’t going to be enough. We’re not too big to go under over this election.
Speaking of election interference, Republicans are claiming that Google is committing election interference by how its autocomplete finishes, or doesn’t finish, results that include the Orange Felon’s name. Google’s response is fairly technical but claims that there are protections that prohibit the autocorrect from finishing a search phrase with anything related to violence. Most of this battle is taking place on social media, though, so the authenticity of the claims is immediately questionable.
For the second time this week, Tesla is in the hot seat. This time, it appears that one of their cars was using the self-driving system when it hit and killed a motorcyclist in Seattle. Tesla hasn’t commented, probably because this could stand in the way of the company being able to launch the fleet of robotaxies that CEO Elon Musk promised would be live by the end of this year. The driver of the car told police that he was using the full Autopilot system and looking at his phone when the accident occurred. I don’t see anyone outside of Tesla thinking that the technology is anywhere close to being ready to be released unmanned on the streets.
Need some proof that your voice is being heard? Yesterday, Paul Dans, the Director of Project 2025 for the Heritage Foundation, resigned due to the severity of the backlash. Don’t think for a minute that this means Project 2025 is done and gone. It’s not. If anything, it means that a new direction of attack, one likely to be less public and more underhanded, is on the way. The Heritage Foundation is saying that they’re not backing down, merely changing direction. What this means is that opposition to the project has to become all the more vigilant, pervasive, and unrelenting to keep the issue at the forefront. We simply cannot risk electing Republicans as long as Project 2025 shows even the slightest glimmer of life.
While the Olympic Triathalons are finally being held today (the women’s race is already done, France won), there’s always some kind of controversy somewhere. This time it’s over who won gold in men’s fencing. The official result is that Hong Kong defeated Italy, but there were multiple stops as the machine that registers the hits scored for both sides at the same time. Italy says they’ve been robbed. Hong King is responding with … comments about how much they like pineapple on their pizza. I’m not making this up. This may be the silliest thing I’ve read all morning.
Those who love dark chocolate, and who in their right mind don’t, will be happy to know that the levels of heavy metal some consumer groups have reported are well below contamination levels. But hold up, those tests only hold true if one limits themselves to 1-2 ounces of the chocolate at a time. The paper in the journal Frontiers has this warning: “… if many such products are consumed fairly regularly by the average consumer, the additive exposure may be a public health concern.” Specifically, if one consumes more than one serving of the chocolate per day, you’re at risk of lead poisoning. Now, how many people do you know who have the willpower to only eat one small square of chocolate per day? I’m thinking there aren’t that many. Perhaps some caution might need to be applied.
Once again, all the animals have gone back to sleep. Kat’s not here, either, so the house is completely quiet. I’m not adjusting to this well, though it’s been exactly the same every previous year.
Maybe I’ll walk to the store and buy some dark chocolate. What are the chances I can limit myself to one ounce?
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