A Big Myth-understanding (Blog #579)

Ick. It’s 11:30, and I’m so frustrated I could spit. Earlier tonight I met my friend Justin to check the status of my laptop. (I spilled hot tea on it a few days ago, and we put it in rice to dry out.) Well, it’s a long story, but basically the keyboard works–with one small exception. It “thinks” one of the shift keys is permanently depressed. (I think I might be thanks to this situation.) THAT MEANS IT STARTS IN SAFE MODE (WHICH IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU REBOOT A MAC AND HOLD DOWN THE SHIFT KEY, MOM), SO IT HAS LIMITED FUNCTION, AND IT ALSO TYPES IN ALL CAPS, WHICH IS–OBVIOUSLY–ANNOYING AS SHIT.

After over an hour of resetting this and reprogramming that, Justin got the laptop to type in regular lowercase–SOMETIMES–but it still starts in safe mode, and one of the shift keys doesn’t work. So I called Apple, and now I have an appointment tomorrow to have a technician check it out. Most likely, I’ll need a new keyboard.

As Justin said, could be better, could be worse.

Believe it or not, none of this really upset me. I actually took it all in stride. Shit happens. It’s not the end of the world. But when I came home and tried to backup some files and log myself out of my online accounts–and couldn’t–I nearly flew off the handle. Why the hell does everything have to be so complicated?! What did I do to deserve this?

Finally, I walked away, reasoning, Just leave everything alone, Marcus. Trust the professionals. You don’t have to control every little thing.

So now I’m in bed, blogging on my phone, trying to chill out. Really, it’s been a good day. This afternoon I made progress on my photo organizing project. Check out one of my all-time favorite pictures, from summer camp (2000) with my friend Matt.

Later I went by myself to see a movie, Small Foot, an animated film about a group of Big Feet who don’t believe in humans until one of them discovers one of us. It’s super cute; totally adorable. The tagline for the movie is “There’s been a big myth-understanding.”

For no planned reason, the two photos I just posted feature one person carrying another. Hum. Maybe there’s a lesson there, in the repetition. I’ve spent so much of life afraid something will go wrong. So much of life mistrusting others and even life itself, that I imagined only I could do things “right.” This has been my personal myth, and it’s why little things like a broken laptop set me off. They force me to let go, to surrender, to accept help. This is a good thing but not an easy thing to do, to admit there’s been a big myth-understanding, that the world ISN’T a big, scary place, and one person DOESN’T have to carry its weight on his shoulders, that it’s OKAY to accept help.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Healing requires letting go of that thing you can’t let go of.

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There’s No Rushing Life (Blog #575)

This afternoon I finished fixing/painting the side of the house I was working on yesterday, the same house I’ve been working on–inside and out–for the past many weeks. So that’s it. Barring any hiccups or unforeseen projects, I’m done. The realtor said the house should be listed early this coming week. So I loaded up my tools, did one final trash run, and celebrated tonight with fried mushrooms and a piece of chocolate cake. And whereas I enjoyed this debauchery immensely, my stomach quickly pitched a fit.

My gut: ever the party pooper.

This is really the oddest feeling, to have an ongoing and seemingly never-ending project end. But this has been the case with so many other things in my life, and I can only assume will be the case with so many more, including this blog. One day something starts, it goes on for a while, and then one day it ends.

Well, either it ends or you do.

Whenever I complete a project, whenever something is over, I tend to stare in both disbelief and admiration (way to go, Marcus!). This evening after I put all the paint cans away and loaded up all my supplies, I did one final walk around the property just to take it all in. I remembered when my friends still lived there, when their home was full of their possessions and memories. Then I remembered all the boxes–all the boxes!–before they moved, and my cleaning all the walls and floors after they left. Little by little–somehow–we got it done.

The last couple of nights I’ve been struck with gratitude with respect to the entire ordeal. First, I’m glad for the work. It’s nice to be employed. But I’m also glad for all the help. Obviously my friends did A LOT of packing before they left, and today their realtor’s husband came by to patch some cracked concrete and haul off some branches I couldn’t fit into the back of Tom Collins (my car). And even though they didn’t do anything directly, my parents loaned me their vacuum cleaner and mop. For that matter, the hardware store provided me with paint, sandpaper, and–most importantly–mosquito spray (for a nominal fee, of course). My point is–we never do things completely alone.

It takes a village and all that shit.

When I got home this evening, I took a long, hot shower. Well, okay, fine–I took a bath. (I like baths. So sue me!) Anyway, I scrubbed the latex paint off my skin and washed the bug spray out of my hair. And–I don’t know–it was like nine o’clock, and I was SO READY for bed. Hell, at seven I was ready for bed; it gets dark SO FRICKIN’ EARLY these days, all I want to do is hibernate. Well, okay, fine–get fat and hibernate. And whereas I’d planned to blog and fall right to sleep, I got distracted by the internet and ended up watching every trailer and promo video I could find for the soon-to-be-released movie about Freddie Mercury. (Freddie Mercury was the lead singer for the band Queen, Mom. He himself was a queen and died due to complications related to AIDS.) Anyway, the movie looks FABULOUS. Granted, it doesn’t have ANYTHING to do with tonight’s blog, but–nonetheless–I can’t wait for it.

It occurs to me that I often “can’t wait” for a lot of things–can’t wait for this project to end, can’t wait for this Freddie Mercury movie to come out (no pun intended), can’t wait to go to bed. And yet there’s no rushing life; everything happens in its own time, in its own season. Something is always ending; something is always beginning. If we’re lucky, we’re able to find appreciation for this present moment, for what is, for the way things are–whatever they are–right here, right now.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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We follow the mystery, never knowing what’s next.

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A Synopsis of The Wonderful Wizard of Oz (Blog #558)

Recently I spent ten days working backstage for the national tour of The Wizard of Oz. This afternoon, as an act of mourning, celebration, and education, I read the book on which the musical and movie were based–The Wonderful Wizard of Oz by L. Frank Baum–for the first time. And whereas the musical and movie contain much of the original story, they leave many notable details out.

Prepare yourself for a rather long (but entertaining) book report.

According to the Baum, Aunt Em never smiles, and she, Uncle Henry, and Dorothy (and Toto) are the only characters who live in Kansas. (Later we find out that the wizard is from Omaha, Nebraska.) There’s no mention of the three farmhands–Hunk, Hickory, and Zeke–nor is there any mention of Miss Gulch, and Dorothy never runs away or encounters Professor Marvel.

When Dorothy is swept up by the tornado and lands in Munchkin Land, she finds out that the land of Oz is divided into four sections–the east, where she’s landed, where the Munchkins live, and that used to be ruled by The Wicked Witch of the East; the west, ruled by The Wicked Witch of the West; the north, ruled by The (nameless) Witch of the North; and the south, whose details we find out later. The City of Emeralds (or The Emerald City) is in the center of all four lands. The Yellow Brick Road goes from the east to The Emerald City, and there’s NO ROAD that goes to the west.

At this point in the story, The Wicked Witch of the West does NOT appear in Munchkin Land, but Dorothy does receive a pair of magical shoes from The Witch of the North, the shoes that used to belong to The Wicked Witch of the East. However, these shoes are silver, NOT ruby, and it’s only at a later point–when Dorothy changes from a red dress into her famous blue and white gingham dress–that she puts the shoes ON. The dress, which she’s brought (in her house) from Kansas is significant because all the Munchkins wear blue and believe that anyone who wears white is a sorceress. So (like Jesus), they see Dorothy as both one of them (or human) and divine.

As we all are.

As Dorothy sets off to see the Wizard–who’s referred to as The Great and Terrible, NOT The Great and Powerful–she quickly encounters The Scarecrow, The Tin Woodman, and The Cowardly Lion, much like she does in the musical and movie. Baum describes The Scarecrow–who’s supposed to have no brain–as saying things “thoughtfully” or “after some serious thought.” At first I judged these descriptions as either poor writing or pure irony, but one could argue that they are neither, as all the main characters clearly possessed that which they were seeking the whole time but simply didn’t realize it yet.

As we all do.

Another interesting point the book makes is that just as The Scarecrow didn’t have a brain (or a heart), The Tin Woodman didn’t have a heart (or a brain). But, for different reasons, one values the head above the heart, and the other values the heart above the brain, so each seeks what is important to him even though both things are “missing.” Personally, I think one should have, value, and use both their brain AND their heart.

In the scene in which Dorothy, The Scarecrow, and The Tin Woodman encounter The Cowardly Lion, the lion asks if Toto is made of straw or tin. Neither, Dorothy says, he’s “a meat dog.”

Before reaching The Emerald City, Dorothy and her friends encounter a number of trials, none of which have anything to do with The Wicked Witch of the West. Like in the musical and movie, one of these trials is the poisonous poppy field, where they initially have to leave the lion–who falls asleep–but later come back to save him. (They haul him out on a cart made by The Tin Woodman and are assisted in pulling it by hundreds of field mice.) When they do reach The Emerald City, they are required to wear green spectacles, which they are told is to protect their eyes from all the shiny objects and is something everyone has to do. Later, when it’s found out that the wizard is a fraud (“a humbug”), they’re told the spectacles are used to fool both the citizens and visitors into believing that everything is green even though in reality it’s not.

The book says that Dorothy and her friends get to see the wizard, but they have to do it separately. The wizard appears in a different form to each one, but asks them all to do the same thing–kill The Wicked Witch of the West. (Because he’s not really a wizard, he’s a afraid of her.) In the musical and movie, he asks that they bring him her broomstick, but the broomstick isn’t mentioned in the book at all–because, like Mary Poppins, the witch carries AN UMBRELLA!

Also, in the book, the witch has ONE EYE instead of two.

So Dorothy and the gang take off a-witch-hunting, but by this point, the one-eyed witch has found out about them, so she sends 40 wolves to have their asses for dinner. (The Tin Woodman chops their heads off.) Then she sends 40 crows. (The Scarecrow breaks their necks.) Then she sends a swarm of bees. (They break their stingers on The Tin Woodman’s chest.) Then she sends 12 Winkies, which are yellow, by the way, the same way the Munchkins are “blue.” (The Lion scares The Winkies off.) Finally, the witch sends the winged monkeys, whom she controls by means of a golden cap. The caveat–whoever has the golden cap can only command the monkeys three times, and this is the witch’s final “wish.”

But the monkeys succeed. (In the musical, a creature called The Jitterbug causes the main characters to dance until they are exhausted, at which point the flying monkeys scoop them up. The Jitterbug scene was shot for the 1939 movie–during the peak of the Lindy Hop/swing dance/jitterbug era–but was ultimately edited out.)

In the book, it’s only Dorothy and the lion who are brought to the witch’s castle; the other two friends are left in the woods to be rescued later. And whereas the lion is kept outside to starve to death (Dorothy saves him by sneaking him food each day), Dorothy is kept in “the house” to do dishes, much like Cinderella was. Of course, what the witch really wants is Dorothy’s shoes, and when she finally manages to steal ONE of them but not the other, Dorothy gets pissed off and throws a bucket of water on her, and it’s then that the witch both melts and dies.

And Dorothy gets her other shoe back.

At this point, Dorothy and the lion rescue their two lost friends, and since Dorothy has taken the golden cap from the witch, the four of them (and Toto) are ultimately transported back to The Emerald City by the winged monkeys. (These guys are better than Uber.) From here, the storyline pretty much follows the musical and movie, except that when the wizard takes off in the hot air balloon, The Witch of the North DOES NOT show up to save the day. Rather, our heroes are forced to take off on more adventures, and this time they go in search of The Witch of the South–Glinda–who lives in a land where everything is RED and sits on a throne made of RUBIES.

MGM (who made the movie) obviously COMBINED The Witch of the North with The Witch of the South.

Nowhere in the book (that I remember) is the phrase “lions and tigers and bears–oh my!” used. However, while the four friends are going south in search of Glinda, the come upon a land where everyone and everything is made of china (The Dainty China Country), and each of the characters except the lion says, “Oh my!”

Once the four travelers reach Glinda, she indeed teaches Dorothy how to use her magical shoes in order to get back home. But first she uses the golden cap, which Dorothy gives her in exchange for her help, to call three times upon the winged monkeys ato The Scarecrow back to rule The Emerald City (as the wizard asked him to do when he left in the hot air balloon), The Tin Woodman back to rule The Winkies in the west, and The (no-longer) Cowardly Lion back to rule a particular forest.

So Dorothy clicks her heels together three times and is whisked (in three steps) across “the desert” and back home to Kansas. (The shoes fall off her feet along the way.) However, during this whole ordeal, she never says, “There’s no place like home.” She does that earlier, when she meets The Scarecrow, who says he doesn’t understand why Dorothy would want to go back to dull, drab Kansas instead of staying in colorful Oz. “This is because you have no brains,” she says. “There’s no place like home.”

In the musical and movie, it’s strongly indicated that Dorothy was stuck unconscious by the tornado and has simply dreamt her adventures. But in the book, Dorothy comes running up to the farm, and Aunt Em says, “Where in the world have you come from?” Dorothy replies, “From the Land of Oz. … I’m so glad to be at home again!” And that’s it–THE END. Nothing is said about the tornado or the fact that Dorothy used their house as an airplane to go on vacation but didn’t bother to bring it back.

So that’s CoCo’s Cliff Notes for The Wonderful Wizard of Oz. But before closing, since I’m so fascinated by the symbology of this story, here a few final things that stood out to me in the book that didn’t stand out to me in the musical or movie:

1. On going into the forest

Joseph Campbell says, “You enter the forest at the darkest point, where there is no path. Where there is a way or path, it is someone else’s path; you are not on your own path. If you follow someone else’s way, you are not going to realize your potential.” So I think it’s appropriate that there’s NO ROAD to The Wicked Witch of the West. Like Campbell says of all true heroes, Dorothy and her friends must blaze their own trail.

Symbolically speaking, the forest Dorothy and her friends enter en route to The Wicked Witch represents Dorothy’s unconscious, and The Wicked Witch represents her shadow. (It’s all the same.) The Guardian of the Gates of The Emerald City is the one who says there is NO ROAD to The Wicked Witch and explains WHY this is the case–because “no one ever wishes to go that way.” Exactly, no one WANTS to face their shadow. Why would they? It’s dark, dangerous, and scary as hell. But it is–ultimately–the way home. As the saying goes, “The only way out–is in.”

Along the same lines, Caroline Myss says, “Always go with the choice that scares you the most–because that’s the one that’s going to require the most from you.”

2. On recognizing your own power

When The Wicked Witch enslaves Dorothy, she KNOWS that Dorothy could use her silver slippers to escape if she only knew what to do with them. But she explains, “I can still make her my slave, for she does not know how to use her power.” I think this is a gorgeous lesson, the perfect reminder that we are all more capable than we recognize; it’s just a matter of learning how to rise above rather than be intimated by that which at first blush seems scary. Jesus obviously knew how to do this–he slept through a storm, walked on water, and danced on his way to the cross. The reason they called him Master? Because it’s not easy.

But it is possible.

3. On being wonderful

When Glinda is preparing to send The Scarecrow back to rule The Emerald City, she says it’s because “it would be a shame to deprive the people of so wonderful a ruler,” and The Scarecrow says, “Am I really wonderful?

Glinda’s reply?

“You are unusual.”

Oh the shade! (Shade is when you insult someone discreetly, Mom.)

But seriously. Perhaps these two things–being wonderful and being unusual–go hand in hand. I don’t know–we so often want to be like everyone else. But the truth is, we are ALL unusual. For all our similarities, there will never be another YOU or another ME–ever, ever, ever. So why not own and celebrate our differences? Don’t they make us wonderful?

Don’t they make us FULL of wonder?

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Healing is like the internet at my parents’ house—it takes time.

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On Winnie the Pooh and Waiting (Blog #493)

This morning I woke up with an upset stomach, something that rarely happens but isn’t surprising considering all the pizza, soda, and chocolate pie I ingested yesterday. Anyway, I’ve been chewing Tums all day. I’ve even swallowed baking-soda water, a home remedy my Dad swears by. I mean, it does make you burp. Now it’s just after midnight, and “I think” my stomach is better. Not great, but better.

Ick.

After waking up with tummy trouble, I went back to sleep until just after noon. Then I ate breakfast, read for a while, and took a nap. I’m not sure what it is, I just don’t feel super-duper today. Perhaps my travels are catching up to me. Regardless, this is the last place I want to be, sitting here blogging. I got my laptop out two hours ago to start working, but have only been procrastinating–that is, watching Major Crimes with Mom and Dad, researching the stars and planets, drinking a beer.

This afternoon I hopped in Tom Collins (my car) to meet my friend Bonnie to see a movie. However, Tom Collins was dead. I turned his key over, and nothing–nada–zip. And whereas my dad and I were going to jump him, we couldn’t figure out how to get him into neutral so we could roll him out of the garage and next to another vehicle. He was stuck in park. “We’ll have to deal with this later,” I said. “The movie starts soon.” So Dad let me borrow his car (that doesn’t have a name), and off I went.

Thanks, Dad.

The movie Bonnie and I saw was Christopher Robin, about the boy who used to play with Winnie the Pooh and friends but eventually grew up and forgot about the Hundred Acre Wood. It was absolutely glorious. Drop whatever you’re doing right now and go see it. (Take a box of Kleenex.) Not only is it beautifully filmed, it also conveys several ever-important messages–be yourself, don’t forget how to play, remember those whom you love, and (above all else) stand up to heffalumps and woozles.

That is, face those things that terrify you.

When I got home from the movie, Tom Collins was turned around in the garage, and I could see his red alarm light blinking. Dad’s fixed him, I thought. As it turns out, Dad brought our wonderful neighbor and his son over, and they did. I guess Tom’s battery was fine, but one of the wires that connects to the battery was loose. At some point I’ll need to replace the wire connector, but our neighbor and his son put something in between the battery post and the wire connector to keep the wire from wiggling around, so everything works for now.

Thanks, neighbor!

Help is always on the way.

One of my favorite quotes from the movie today was by Winnie the Pooh. Christopher Robin is rush-rush-rusing along, and Pooh Bear just stops. Well, Christopher is undone. “What the hell are you doing, Pooh?!” (These are my words not his.) Then Pooh says, “Sometimes if I am going somewhere and I wait, somewhere comes to me.” Ugh. What a perfect reminder. So often I run-run-run around, doing-doing-doing, trying to GET SOMEWHERE. I forget that it’s OKAY to get stuck in park once in a while. I forget that help is always on the way, dear. I forget that just as I am chasing my dreams, my dreams are chasing me.

And how are they supposed to find me if I’m always moving about?

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Sometimes we move with grace and sometimes we move with struggle. But at some point, standing still is no longer good enough.

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Magnificent (Blog #342)

It’s one in the morning, and I technically started blogging almost two hours ago. That is, I inserted the above picture then quickly got distracted by YouTube videos about Walt Disney. Last night I watched a Netflix movie about him, and at the end of the film he’s quoted as saying, “You may not realize it when it happens, but a kick in the teeth may be the best thing in the world for you.” So that’s where the distraction started–I wanted to see if he actually said it (he did).

Since one thing led to another, I now know more about Walt (he preferred first names) and Disney World than I ever wanted to. Like cast members (their term for employees) have to use two fingers or their whole hand to point, since using only one finger to point is considered rude in some countries. And some of their restaurants have machines that pump the smell of tasty food out into the streets in order to lure customers in and buy, say, cinnamon rolls.

Well, shit. Now I’m hungry.

Anyway, this is how I’ve been distracting myself the last twenty-four hours, with movies and YouTube videos. Before I went to bed last night I took my temperature, and it was 101. It was back to normal this morning, but I’m pretty sure I’m dealing with the flu here. Again. Potentially a less dramatic strain than last time (just a few weeks ago), since my body hasn’t been too achy. Still, I’m full of mucus, my energy is shot, and my neck is stiff as a board. I spoke to my therapist today in order to confirm my next appointment and told her I was seriously sick and tired of this nonsense. She said, “As well you should be.”

Earlier today I re-watched the movie What About Bob? If you haven’t watched it, you should. It’s about a germaphobe named Bob who gets a new therapist then immediately cons his way into being part of the therapist’s family vacation. The therapist keeps saying, “This is not appropriate,” and “The therapist-patient relationship is built on trust, and you destroy that when you lie to me.” But Bob can’t help himself. Despite his therapist’s objections and–much like a nasty flu virus–he keeps coming back.

This afternoon I got the results of my latest bloodwork. I’m clearly not a doctor, but I think they were good. Not a single thing that was tested was out of range. On one hand, I guess it’s nice to know that I’m “normal.” Nothing appears to be glaringly wrong. But on the other hand, I was kind of hoping for something–anything–to be out of range, since I’d like an explanation for why I’ve felt so bad for so long. Again, I don’t know what the numbers mean. Recently my B12 levels tested as in range, and later my doctor said that they were actually low for someone my age. So it could be something like that.

Since my doctor has a patient portal system used to ask her questions, I sent her a message to find out more about the bloodwork. But, y’all, I’m starting to feel like Bob in What About Bob? When I logged into the patient portal system, it showed like eight messages I’ve sent since becoming a patient (eight weeks ago). Granted, I’m not knocking on my physician’s door but I feel like I’m becoming THAT guy. Part of me thinks I’m being a bother, but another part of me thinks, I’m dying over here–it’s okay to ask for help (and I’ll be glad to stop when I freaking feel better.) So I keep sending messages, and they (the doctor and her nurse) keep replying.

In other news, Dad came home from the hospital today. I said yesterday that they’d put three stints in him, but apparently it was five. Three new ones and two to replace or “beef up” the two old ones. He said the last time he had stints put in, he came home feeling like a new man. Today he said, “I do not feel like a new man.” I think this means that they are still figuring things out, adjusting his medications, scheduling follow-up appointments. Another movie I watched today (that was about a Pakistani stand-up comedian who falls in love with a white girl) was called The Big Sick. (It was slow to start but surprisingly delightful.) Anyway, I’m thinking of using this phrase to refer to our household and this time in our lives–The Big Sick.

You’ve got to believe that things can turn around.

My therapist says that I’m too bitter to die young. “Only tender, precious people die young,” she says. “So don’t worry. Your time’s not up yet.” I’m not sure if any of this is true, but it does make me smile. It does give me hope. I guess Walt Disney worked for nine or ten years as a struggling animator before he came up with Mickey Mouse. Like, it was bad. He was broke. He couldn’t pay his employees. He got evicted from his apartment and his office. His dad told him to get “a real job.” I guess the lesson is that when life does kick you in the teeth, you’ve got to hold on. You’ve got to believe in yourself and even in life, the thing that’s doing the kicking. You’ve got to believe that things can turn around, that even difficult situations–perhaps only difficult situations–can turn you into something magnificent.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Everything is progressing as it should.

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Socks and Days That Don’t Match (Blog #250)

Yesterday I wore the socks Bonnie knitted me for my birthday. They don’t match–intentionally, she said, since life isn’t “perfect.” When I got home from therapy yesterday, I followed my therapist’s suggestion–I took a nap. Then I spent the evening watching two movies. The first, The Pursuit of Happyness, starred Will Smith and told the true story of a man who went from living on the streets to becoming a millionaire stock broker. Everything about this story made my heart sing. The second movie, The Words, was about a writer who wrote a story about a writer who found another writer’s manuscript (about his true love and their child who died), published it as his own, and became famous. If you’re confused, you should be. The movie had its moments–wonderful acting–but it was like playing with a set of Russian nesting doll–stories inside of stories.

The fact that my friend Justin recommended The Words should come as no surprise. (Justin is notorious for recommending “meh” movies.) “Justin, that vampire movie you told me to watch was terrible. I just can’t trust your cinema wisdom after that experience,” I said last week. “No, this movie will be different,” he said.

“Trust me,” he said.

Last night I was in bed at the time I usually start writing. I think I slept for eleven or twelve hours. And whereas I don’t feel like a daisy today–I have a headache–I do feel better. As much as getting some sleep, I think it has to do with finishing the blog earlier than normal. I guess it was creating a certain amount of stress, especially on days that were full of activities. It’d be three in the morning, I’d be worn out, and I’d think, Oh yeah, I still have that to do. Now it’s two-thirty in the afternoon, and I plan to be done with today’s blog by three-thirty. Earlier today I unsubscribed from a number of email lists, and I’m looking at that action the same way I’m looking at knocking the blog out while the sun’s still shining–a little action I can take to alleviate stress and relieve tension.

I mean, it all adds up.

Another thing I’m doing is changing the music I’m listening to while blogging. Normally I listen to instrumental music. Always the same, it’s something a friend gave me once–spiritual music. There are supposed to be seven tracks–one for each chakra–but one of the files is missing. Shit, that’s probably why I’ve felt so out of balance lately–I don’t have the heart chakra file. Anyway, today I’m listening to James Brown, and I’m finding that he’s just as spiritual. Yesterday I told my therapist that I feel stuck, what with living at home and having been sick for so long. She said, “Marcus, everything changes. You won’t be there forever. You won’t be here in this office forever.”

One day a change will come.

Today’s blog is number 250. That’s 250 days in a row of straight blogging. The goal is a year, and whether or not I make it, I do realize that one day I’ll leave my laptop shut, not write a word for the world to see. Maybe I’ll be sick in the hospital, or maybe I’ll be drinking a cup of coffee and watching Days of Our Lives with my dad, but it’ll be that simple. One day a change will come, if for no other reason than that’s the way life works. Like a pair of mismatched socks, one day doesn’t mirror the one next to. Life isn’t “perfect,” at least if you think perfect is having two socks or days that match.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Confidence takes what you have and amplifies it. Confidence makes anyone sexy.

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