Tuesday.

This morning I opened my eyes, and my first emotion was dread. I shut them and returned to the dream where I was commander of six million nanobot warriors. Our latest mission of entering my home's structure and defeating the termite intruders was going well, I relished in the sweet taste of the oncoming victory.
"Sir, the bugs are no more."
"Gather the bodies, we don't want the stench attracting reinforcements."
BZZT! BZZT! BZZT! Security breach! Alpha Unit, cover the entrances! Will someone turn off that infernal alarm!
I was awake again. My army was gone. The dread had returned. For those times you think twice, or twenty times, about clocking in, some days you feel sluggish, others you are unmotivated. But today was more than that. I had no trouble with starting the day in general, I had trouble with starting a day that would lead me to work. It has been a while since I last felt completely turned off about going to the office from my first lucid thought. Nothing to do with the creative challenge, or any other that may arise, but a simple yet utter dislike for the space it seemed to come to represent. You get to the point of willing events of mass destruction and natural disasters, just so you can go anywhere but 'there'.
Then Buddha licks my face and makes the motions that he really needs to go outside. I think of worse places I could have to approach than work. It gets me out of bed, but I think I'll carry the attitude. It'll give me the safe quiet little world I need so as not to hurt anyone ('s feelings, at least). Buddha, Dhara: go pee you hyper bastards. And run. A lot.
Go chase a butterfly you stupid mindless anorexic kitten!!!

Floater Diaries.002

While "resetting the cache" yesterday I was reflecting at the past fortnight during which I contracted and defeated two very different strains of flu viruses. This first was met with a hearty battle for dominance. The second came upon me like Paris' arrow. I was on my back, utterly useless for just over 24 hours on Friday. I marvelled at my luck in attracting these viruses in such close succession, but even more so, the ability to pass them through so quickly, each so completely opposite in method; the only common denominator being no medications. I say "method" because I consciously decided how I was going to treat each cold as I found myself afflicted - to fight one and to surrender to the onslaught of the other.

Now my wife is sick with the latter of my enemies, but determined to use the former of my strategies. It's hard to watch, but what can you do? She sees me walking normally just three days after falling almost comatose. Now she cries, writhing, fighting the pain being inflicted by the millions of microscopic invaders. I want to say accept the pain, relax in the burning heat, give in to the dementia, this is part of the process. But it is her nature to fight, regardless the beast at her door. So what do you do but let it be. In the end, we will have both survived, and thus both won our battles in our own ways. I ignored her remedies and she would ignore half of mine. Makes no difference. Only time knows or cares when it is all done.

It now occurs to me that we treat each other how we want to be treated. We say it as much in words, but we really put it out there in action. When I was down, I just wanted a bottle of water always full at the bedside and to be left alone with me nemesis. See you in the morning. That's pretty much how I treat people who are physically sick and working on it. Give them what they need, and get out of the way. I'll pat you on your back when you get out and say, "way to fight it", regardless of how you recovered. Others will bring you everything they think you need and want and make sure you know it's there. Every twelve minutes. Unless you're sleeping. And when they're infirm, you know the rest. What happens when you have one of each, in their respective extremes, facing the same situations, reversed within mere hours of each other?

It's only funny if you can extract your mind from it, believe me. See you on the other side of sick.

Duh.

Forgive the obvious nature of this simple revelation, but I've just discovered the "secret" to my own personal success. If you gain from this, great... hope it sends off fireworks in your day too.
I work (design and write) in an advertising agency. A positition that is related to almost entirely on my creative ability. Always knew it's what I wanted to do professionally.
I used to think that to be a great success I had to be brilliant at my work (which I love, thankfully) and everything would fall into place. Then I became unhappy with my outside-of-work creativity. I thought perhaps I was using it all up at work and leaving nothing for play time, so I started trying less at work to see if I could keep some in reserve for fun (the theory made sense without that crucial second thought). Instead, I became unhappy at work as well. So I pulled away even more from 'the office' and dedicated myself to regaining the light on my own terms. Ironically I found it in everything I did EXCEPT my art and writing.
The "secret" was so simple it should be embarassing to admit having found it, impying that it was not known in the first place. My creativity was not the issue, my ability to let it flow was. There is a balance between the need to make a good living, and a need to be in control or one's creative freedom. Since my creativity is tied to my income generation, I lost focus of it. I lost the distiction required to keep business from pleasure, so to speak. I started to equate my creativity at work with MY creativity. Thus I lost the self awareness and subtly began to identify myself through what I do, instead of who I am.
I'm not sure if or how being aware can be the singular cure-all for my recent apathy, but I feel as though some essence within has been recharged.

Worth Quoting.12

"If you accept the pain, it cannot hurt you."
Hugh MacLeod, gapingvoid: "cartoons drawn on the back of business cards"

Worth Quoting.11

"My tears do not compromise my strength."
Woman in 2007 Kleenex "Want to talk?/Blue sofa" campaign.

Worth Quoting.10

"Of all the things you could be, why predictable?"
Me, to [anon.] in a less-than-challenging conversation.

Floater Diaries.001

While "dropping the kids off to the pool" this evening, I noticed there was part of a pattern in the floor tiling that looked like the pope greeting the masses from the balcony. Not the facial recognition type of look-a-like, but more of the general concept. You know the figure in draped robes with arms outstretched, slightly leaning back, soaking in the moment. Come on, I am sure every pope has to have done that at least once. After all, they are only human. I'll try to get a shot of that sometime when a camera graces its presence.

Witching hour, or thereabouts.

It is somewhere between Tuesday and Wednesday and the mutagen intruders have been sticking it out with everything they can think of. Too bad I've been there before and have thwarted every critical assault to my system. All that's left is this constant runny nose and the occasional sneeze. It's always been the over sensitive nose to leak the evidence of the internal battle.

The new motorcycle is on the build. Parts from here, there and everywhere else are to be shipped in to complete the project. I want to go the streetfighter route despite everyone else saying the machine is too beautiful to not rebuild in the factory condition with aesthetic customisations. Of course, following the crowd opinion would ... blah blah. Nuff said, right?

Why do producers think close-up shots of pale wide-eyed Japanese school girls with runny mascara are scary? The Apple iPhone is announced. I want. I have not dived for almost two months. No surf for the past month. Buddha, my male dog has an ongoing intensifying fixation with his blanket for the past few months. The cable programming and regular Outernet haunts have failed to exercise my active mind and restless body.

That is all.

1, 2, 3...

For three days I have signed in and stared at the blinking cursor with absolutely no inclination or inspriation. Let's see how much longer it continues.