I feel stabby! Oh so stabby!

On hold with Chase being numbed by the most pitiful jive-ass smooth jazz fuzak bullshit imaginable. I'm getting jerked off, and I'm not even paying for it.

I'd grab a cheese grater to shave off my nut hairs - much more pleasant and distracting experience that would be - but they do value the opportunity to service me....apparently......

Transitory

Three-day weekend, four-day week, five-day weekend. I can't even express how needed this is.

I.

Am.

Spent.

Mentally, physically, scorched earth. So much so that I'm giving in to it and not taking care of myself: I'm all too often in fuck-it mode lately; food on the run if at all, one more beer, no gym, three more beers... Not good.

But spiritually I am wide awake and so alive. Dear friends and family, new opportunities and adventures, new chances to get my shit together. New season ahead - a slight bite in the breeze, the sense of transition in the air, the tinge of woodsmoke growing more prevalent.

I hope to be buoyed by this spirit. Revolution starts at home, and I lead the charge.

Right? Right.