Move forward, gather materials, tinker, make something you don't like, tinker, find something you do like about it, build on that, give it legs to stand on, let it run around a bit.

Might be nice to build a little office. Lots of screens. Because I like screens.

Multiple compys. Research one, the other not online at all. Only for typing in the green screen typing program I have. I could pull that off. Somehow.

I was reading a story about the effect of the proposed tax overhaul. There are people with incomes of $150,000 to $200,000 per year that are concerned about the loss of deductions. My instinct is to scoff, which is wrong of me. This whole system is designed to get me to live slightly above my means, regardless of what those means are. It doesn't want me to save money, it wants me to pump every cent into some material possession. Which makes sense, because that's what I kind of want to do anyway.

We make more money, we incur greater costs. More expensive cars, bigger houses, every gaming console. So yes, I imagine life would be easy if I made $200,000 a year. Meanwhile, my teen self making 5.25 an hour working part time at a thrift store and making like $300 a month would be astounded by my current pay rate and wonder how I ever run out of money.

Teen-self didn't have a mortgage or have to buy food, just pay for car insurance and gas.

Now here I am, making more than triple that and still feeling about the same in regards to my bank account. I feel broke, despite my luxurious lifestyle. Because there's more to be had.

Money doesn't solve money problems, I've heard. I'll try to remind myself of that more often.

Helped Remy with his math homework. It went well. Made me feel like I could actually learn to math like a normal person. Someday, perhaps.

The placebo effect is wearing off.

What's been going on? Feeling like I'm in stasis. Waiting. For what, I do not know. Maybe for profound inspiration to lead me to my true calling. Or maybe waiting to accrue vacation time. Why not both?

I have a day off on Monday. I'm going to celebrate Schmeteran's Eve, the holiday involving prancing, grilled meat, and several naps.

Washing dogs and doing their laundry is also on the menu. Gotta have clean dogs, for winter snuggling.

Some part of me feels like I'm supposed to learn how to plant clover. Not actual grass, because I refuse to do any landscaping on a matter of principle. The principle is that I don't like it. No, clover for the backyard so the dogs have something pleasant for their paws. And track in less dirt. After they go outside, they have decided that it is their sacred duty to immediately leap onto my bed to make sure it's still there.

It usually is.

This new medication is working. I can tell by my increased productivity at work and my decreased desire to write. "I can give you the ability to accomplish your daily tasks," it says. "All it will cost is your ability to dream."

Jokes on you, medication; I still dream a little.

And I'm still training to fight, even though I don't fight anymore. 

My grey stallion rests...

Part of me was hoping that these pills would work no better than the others. The part of me that doesn't like paying for the increased cost. It's a lot more. I've developed an ingenious test: If, after a month, I'm still able to rationalize not paying so much for brain pills, then clearly these more expensive/effective ones are not working well enough to justify the cost.

In your face, brain.

What a ride!

Saw Thor: Ragnarok on Sunday. Delightful. I also took Monday off and got an MRI on my knee. You can really feel the magnetic field! Or I imagined I could feel it. It's an extremely loud machine, and was probably just vibrating as my lower half was engulfed by the massive gray device, like being stuck in the blowhole of a whale. A magnety, robot whale.

I also saw my ENT. Going to get my septum un-deviated. And my tonsils removed. Doctor says I'll be in horrible agony for a couple weeks. I did not say "There are many types of pain, and the physical is but one," but just smiled wryly.

Probably get that done in January. I expect I'll be less haughty about it when I can't eat ice cream because it's too painful. But until then, I will haught it like t'is hot, verily.