That’s when the sky starts to lighten up now. That’s about an hour earlier then at the beginning of the week. I’m a little concerned that my demeanor is slowly devolving into something that is a cross between Bugs Bunny and a zombie. My level of cynicism and sarcasm has risen to an all time high, my brain is constantly firing but it’s spouting out gibberish 90% of the time fused with inaudible groans, I stumble about more than usual without being drunk and I may as well hook myself up to the coffee IV at this point in time – which sucks because unlike normal humans coffee isn’t a stimulant for me. I drink it to relax myself and fall asleep sometimes.
I’m finding it incredibly hard to sleep up here. Correction, I’m finding it incredibly hard to sleep normally up here. My wife will contend that I sleep just fine but that’s not what my mind or body is telling me. It’s not that I can’t sleep with the sun out. Hell I can sleep standing up in a fully lit (and moving) subway car so that’s not an issue. It’s what this nuisance known as the sun is doing to me mentally. I find myself forcing myself to sleep rather than having it happen naturally. When we first came up here many moons ago I was absolutely in my element. I am a child of the night. Sorta like a sexy vampire but with no bloodsucking and looser pants. I’m alive at night. I work best at night. I write my best at night. When days consisted of 19hrs of darkness and 5 hours of light I was in my zone blogging, working and being just an Energizer Bunny full of life. I’m kinda glad I was at the peak of my blogging because had I started now I’d probably would have never blogged at all. It’s brutal. I couldn’t have anticipated how much a few extra hours of daylight would have such a profound impact on my daily living.
Who am I kidding? I’ve never liked the sun.
Regardless, as the days get longer and longer my Bizarro Superman darkness-fueled powers fade more and more. And we’re not even into Summer yet. That’s where the real fun begins. From what I’m constantly told we don’t get full on 24hrs of daylight because we’re just outside the infamous arctic circle but let’s just say it never really gets dark either. Woo hoo. Mix that with my wife into a new kick of playing music to go to sleep at night and I’m in store for a wonderous next couple of months. Mind you, she just bought a white noise machine not too long ago to help her sleep. You know those rainforesty, crashing waves crickets fucking type of things but apparently she’s abandoned that for block rockin’ beats.
I sleep with earplugs. Not by choice. It started back when there were habitual partying neighbors above us in our old apartment. I’m the kind of person that can fall asleep anywhere at anytime if I’m tired but if there’s even a hint of unwelcomed noise, I can’t sleep. I later donned the plugs once again when a child with name of the Norse God of Gods, Odin, walked the Earth above me. He certainly lived up to his tremendous namesake. I thought in fleeing to the arctic north I would relieve myself from the noises (and voices) that plague me nightly but then Jemaine and Brit decided they learned enough English and elected to test it out every morning at 5am by singing Lionel Richie’s “Hello”. Mind you they only know the hello part and while to some it may seem cute and amusing, I wholeheartedly believe I can make a cat fly before the end of the summer if it keeps up.
I apologize for a great many things…
I apologize for posting a Lionel Richie video. Although I think he should be apologizing for the video itself. The girl is blind and he says “is it me you’re looking for”. That’s just some cold-blooded non politically correct shit there Horse Man.
I apologize for the run on sentences and tangents that stray from the main point during the course of this post. But then again if I don’t have a point to begin with is it really straying from it?
I apologize for not being a daily poster. No… I don’t want to be a giant paper on a wall. I’m just sorry I can’t produce as much content as others in the blogiverse can. I have weeks worth of events, sights and experiences locked in my brain but the creature at the helm of my brain only allows me to blurt it out as he sees fit. I write articles, albeit weird and disjointed ones at times. I can’t just write to hear myself talk. Some people appear to thrive off of that but that’s just not me. While I do ramble, rant and babble I do it for the people 4700+ people who have and still do come to this blog who area interested (for some reason) in what I have to say. Thank you loyal and demented followers (and those passing through). It’s always comforting being able to spread my infectious dribble across the world.
I apologize for having an Arctic char in the freezer. Yeah. I got a whole frozen fish in my freezer and have never scaled or gutted a fish in my life. It had to be purchased though. I recall salmon steaks and fillets running at least $9 – $12 in the south for the skimpiest portions. This is a whole fucking char, freshly caught, for $25. How could I pass up a deal like that? Course my do now, think later mentality has put me in yet another bind. I don’t care. I’ll defrost and cut that bastard up somehow.
I apologize to Missy for stealing her unicorn and assassinating her with it. I didn’t mean to. Okay… that’s a lie. I did but only because you were slowly killing me the entire time I was fighting my way through the inner ring. C’mon. I was broke, had no fate and was dragging a dragon carcass around for most of the night. The gnome in my pocket didn’t help out much either. When I saw my opportunity to take you down I went for it and prevailed as the ruler of all. If you’re reading this and don’t believe a word of what I’m saying there were three other witnesses to monumental event so I’m not crazy. Course there was a lot of drinking involved too and I do recall Missy requesting that I draw it at some point so I guess that’ll be a future post, eh?
I apologize to Bell and Corus Entertainment for living on Baffin Island. When we left Kitchener we brought our receiver with us. Bell still offered service up here so we figured it was easiest to just bring it and not have to worry about getting a new one. For months we’ve had the same Astral Media programming we had down south. You know like The Movie Network and east coast stations. That all changed 2 days ago when the brainiacs over at Bell decided to switch our service without notice. Apparently, according to them, the entire territory of Nunavut falls under their west coast services. Nevermind the fact Nunavut makes up about a third of the entire country (with roughly half of that in the east). I’m no geographer but last I recall Iqaluit is still in the Eastern Time Zone. Heck, if you pull out a map or a globe you’ll see that we’re further east than Kitchener, Toronto and even New York so of course I want to see west coast programming. Does this make even remotely any sense to you? Maybe my sleep deprivation is making me see things in a skewed perspective but doesn’t it bear to reason that if I’m in an East Coast time zone, shouldn’t I get east coast programming? Bless Bell and the monkeys they have working there.
Lastly I apologize for being awesome. Over the last few weeks I’ve come under a lot of fire from critics and cynics for my proclamation of awesomeness. It’s understandable that there is a lot of animosity and jealousy when it comes to being in the presence of something truly awesome so in being the awesome guy that I am I’ll try my best to contain my aura. I’m not being egotistical or overly confident. I’m just being what I am. A tiger can’t help being a tiger. He’s born that way. I can’t help being awesome. I was born that way.
Okay. This isn’t one of my typical, image laden, highly wordy posts. I usually like to write articles but this is so off the top of my head I figured I’d give it a whirl. In fact this came to me as I was sitting here trying to work.
My wife and I have been emailing back and forth about an issue we’re having with a 3rd party. Our buddy Missy told us from day one to never try to find logic where there is none up here. Foolishly, being a creature of pure logic (mixed with cruel cynicism) I often get worked up when the logic of a situation – or lack there of – fails to process in my head. So as I’m emailing Suzanne I notice I’m writing angrier and angrier. Not at her mind you, just bitching in general.
I decide to take a break and make a tuna salad sammich to get my mind off things. Halfway into constructing my meal I realize that my lips have been moving the whole time and I’ve quite literally been reciting a rant under my breath that I didn’t even know I was reciting. Apparently my brain decided it had enough, set my body on auto-pilot and started penning a rant for later use.
That frightens me.
I know I’m not crazy – or at least that’s what the voices in my head tell me – but wow. Has anyone else ever been so mad that you’ve ranted to yourself as if you’re giving it a test run before you unleash it on your intended target?
I hate days like this.
It’s a blah monochrome day outside. The breeze coming in the window is quite chilly and once again I’m waiting for work to come in. It sucks being at the mercy of your clientele but welcome to the world of freelancing. It’s an inglorious, often misunderstood and unforgiving realm where self-respect is non-existent and you always have to “put on a good smile” even when you feel like stomping a mud hole in someone. It’s what’s commonly referred to as “the mask”.
We all put on our masks every day life. Don’t fool yourself and believe you don’t. Works masks, friend masks, parent masks, sibling masks, spousal masks, dude masks, whore masks, public masks, private masks… there’s a never ending supply of them and we don them as we see fit according to the social interaction we have to engage in. They can be as close to your true self as you can get or they can be as diverse a bag of jelly beans. We wears masks so often that sometimes we forget who we truly are inside. I know that’s the case with me sometimes. I’m often known as the funny or pleasant guy. Always respectful and constantly in pursuit of putting a smile on someone’s face. It does actually make me somewhat happy to make others happy – as cheesy as it may sound – but there comes times when not even that can bring up my spirits. It’s the classic tragic clown syndrome. Who makes the clown laugh?
Many times I feel like I’m losing my mind. I put on the happy-go-lucky face so often that when I don’t feel like being chipper – or cracking a joke or lightening the mood it feels wrong. Am I wrong for not wanting to be happy all the time? No person can be happy 24/7 (unless they have some really good drugs that they’re not sharing) but whenever I drift off into one of these despondent moods I’m immediately criticized or questioned as to why I’m “acting” them way I’m behaving. Can I not be uninspired and unimaginative for a little bit? It’s as though I’m expected to forever be the cheery informative creative guy despite having to go through all the same crap everyone else has to deal with on a daily basis. Maybe it’s not an act? Maybe I’m really just a pernicious person deep down inside and whenever I grow weary of trying to appease people all the time the real me begins to surface.
I just felt like squeezing out a rant (yet again) because people need to realize that nice people aren’t nice just because they’re born nice. It isn’t a mystical power we summon from an ancient amulet or a prescription pill we can pop when needed. It can’t be turned on and off like a light switch and it certainly isn’t an endless energy source. We get pissed just like you. We get angry, depressed, resentful, remorseful and vengeful just like anyone else – just more so because we handle our emotions the old school way. We bottle them up until they manifest into a health condition. ;p
Now I gotta go and find my beanie and my cardboard sign so I can whore around for some work while I’m waiting on my other clients. Cheers!