Thursday, September 29, 2016

Dull happenings

The Complete and Total Loser has been in a long-term funk since mid summer. Blame the loss of the bird. Blame the constant physical pain. He sleeps too much and does nothing productive when awake. 
Boring notes on the past six weeks:
  • The Loser went to his aunt's 100th birthday party. The party was in Connecticut. She seemed well, considering, but as the Loser's brother put it, he's not making plans for her 101st.
  • The Loser had his annual physical in late August. His PSA number has risen substantially, up to 5.2. The Loser is all for doing nothing about it, should it turn out to be cancer, even though he's two years shy of turning sixty. Let it kill him. Two decades of no orgasms and incontinence? No. Not interested. He goes back in November for a retest.
  • On the last day of August, the Loser had a cortisone injection in his bad knee. His doctor referred him, saying that his wife goes to the same guy and gets an injection that lasts a year. The knee doctor said it would take 48 hours to take effect and sure enough, two days later the Loser's knee felt great. He thought he'd start swimming again, perhaps even bicycle. On the third day, however, it started to hurt again and now it feels as bad as ever.
  • The Loser will quit his crappy part-time retail job soon. He'll be dead of cancer in a few years anyway and he can't imagine working the upcoming full-time holiday schedule like he did last year.
  • Two nights ago after work, the Loser was standing around with a half dozen coworkers. The topic of snoring came up. "I have no idea if I snore or not because I've always lived alone," the Loser said. Everyone seemed sad.
  • Today, the trash haulers threw out the Loser's trashcan. He is baffled about this. It was a perfectly functional trashcan. Also, it had as much sentimental value to the Loser as a trashcan can; he'd bought it for his father, who died five years ago, because it had wheels and his father was wearing out the trashcans that didn't by dragging them up and down the driveway. Despite the wheels, the Loser's father dragged this one too and there was a hole in the bottom of it. This made the Loser love his father. This morning, as he took out the trash, the Loser used the wheels because it was very full and he thought about his father. Now the can is gone and there is one less thing around to make the Loser think of his father.
  • The Loser is reading the book Grit, by Angela Duckworth. There's a test by which you can measure your level of grit in the book, also easily accessible online. The Loser took the test and, unsurprisingly, learned that he has close to zero grit.


  1. Can't say your blithering idiocy has been missed, old boy!

  2. for one have just spent three hours reading your posts

    I wish you the best. But not in the sense of pity. Rather that you continue to be happy in small ways. Perhaps not everyone is meant to be fulfilled in the stereotypical ways. But relish in the meaning of things that you get to feel. The trashcan, the bird. Every day you get to feel. I'll be checking back on your blog, please know that someone wishes you well