But every once in a while things fall apart.
The not riding is not helping. The inconsistent coffee. There's nothing left in the pot when I come back for some and then I have to make a whole one and then drink more than a cup, but then want to come back to it and there's no more (more people drinking it here). And, well, it has been a bit of a problem mostly in that I really can't judge how much I'm drinking. I need it but then can't tell if I've had too much until about 11pm until 6am.
Kind of the same with the alcohol to be honest. Drinking until there's no more to drink but at the same time not being able to internally judge how much. And from what I've been reading lately that's kind of a classic autism/Asperger's spectrum symptom. Makes sense. But at the same time I thought I felt pretty good about the whole drink when thirsty but now that I reflect, maybe not so much.
Bottom line, if I'm not frantically fearing the end, I'm f'n tired. At least I'm not falling asleep wondering if I'll wake up, mostly because I'm lying there not feeling like I'm going to fall asleep. The bed is strange, I'm not a fan of memory foam. The room isn't dark, there's lots of street lights and traffic and the temp is weird and not regulatable. But it is only for a few days and it is good that the kids are hanging with their grands and that whole family thing. Time is fleeting and special and I'm not mad or grumpy at least at the whole thing, just tired, and frustrated that I still haven't managed to figure out the whole coffee thing. The only real answer is to solve it like I did alcohol. Zero. None. But I don't like that idea, I like how I have it set up normally, defined, controlled, known. I know I can make one pot in the morning and then a small 6 cup during the day and that's perfect. If I have to make a second 6 cup, not the end of the world esp if I don't finish it and stop drinking by 5pm. Seattle travel will be interesting. Mostly for the same reason. It has been 4.5 years but I still remember worrying about when and where and if there will be enough beer for me where I was going. Or in the end, enough vodka. At least there was no end, from that. Very very well could have been.
I'm going to apologize for all this. It is kind of not the most engaging content, not the most audience expanding and viral blogging that could happen. Maybe I should set a goal for the new year to start doing some more writing about bike stuff, or the Topeak stuff or the finish line stuff or NBX or just bikes in general. Or switch to photography chronicling, or I don't fucking know. Or maybe I just keep throwing that in the mix and keep going here.
Maybe leave a digital archaeological record for someone to dig through. The drive back is going to be really tough, the car will be crowded. It is the one time when it would be nice to have a van. But it is 8-10 hours we'll survive somehow. And make things happen and make it work.
I haven't totally stopped what iffing myself, and lately this whole whatever it is called with the dread/fear of death that is haunting me has brought it back up a little, the what-iffing isn't great. What if I didn't smash my knee on the pavement after SupercrossCup. What if I had put new glow plugs in before going to NY? What if I hadn't caught the Golf on Fire, what if I hadn't had so much to drink that I was too sick to eat the one breakfast I was looking forward to at the hotel in KY? Sausage day. The other two days were fucking bacon. And yes Breakfast sausage > bacon, unless it is maple sausage. That shit can fuck right off to hell. No I don't like bacon in my chocolate chip cookies and I don't like maple in my sausage.
But the what-iffing is balanced by the fact that the kids are better for the choices I made and maybe that's really all that matters. Them. My work is more or less done, right? Sure, I have plenty left to do to support them and help and be there for them but making any of the other choices differently to now might not have gotten them where they are. And that really does count for quite a bit. And what else really matters? Me? Do I need to be as happy as some people are? No, hell, I probably couldn't ever be that happy even if I could write a dream script from any number of points. Like say borrowing and finding enough cash to buy some Waste Management Stock just after they started growing in the 80s. It was the biggest non-tech stock boom and my research in economics class was pointing it out to be amazing. It was. It split and split and split and grew and is still massive. That would have changed quite a bit. But also maybe some things not for the better. This is a really long winded way of saying I am okay with where I am, content even. I've been through a lot. I've seen some shit.
What is next? I don't know but lets find out. Def want to work on getting on the bike more but also at the moment working on appreciating the forced break and time just to relax. Even if I'm not very rested.
And I'm appreciating the fact that I'm okay here instead of being driving absolutely furiously manic here.
Progress.
One step in front of the other.
One more time up the hill, Laps are better than Naps, and all the rest.
Amor Fati Motherfuckers
heddwch
G
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