On contentment, and questionable food

[Mesozoic Mister Nigel]

I am among the nation's great unwashed masses of discontent.

Sunday mornings always do it for me. This is the morning when the fathers come to pick up my children, leaving me in my vast empty house all alone and usually bruised and/or mildly hung-over from whatever Saturday night shenanigans I got up to (hardly anyone was hurt and only one window got broken). I shower and oil my hair and my skin until I'm soft and glowing as an Egyptian whore and, depending on whether they've been assholes lately, put on something that will remind my exes that they will never, ever tap this again, hand off my kids with the requisite polite small talk, and bam. Door closes. Silence falls.

At first I clean. This is my big chance, you know? Three days of not having a sink constantly full of dishes, and towels that have been used to wipe up something questionable, dragged through a pile of dog hair, and then hung back up on the hook for the unwary showerer to anoint their face with.

And then, with a reasonable amount of vacuuming and laundry out of the way, I sit in my office with the sunlight pouring through the window, and I am discontent. An hour ago I was annoyed because my pubescent daughter would not stop rattling on about some anime she's really into, and now I don't know what to do with the absence of her noise. I look out at the cedar fence that separates my yard from the neighbor's and contemplate selling the house. I had a view of Mt. Hood, now I have a view of recently-built, overpriced townhouses. But I've got six, almost seven years worth of growing time on those fruit trees, and my garden is finally, for the first time since I bought the house, perfect.

I am discontent about my view.
I am discontent about my floor plan. This is a really shitty floor plan... who thought that would be a good idea?
I am discontent because nobody has called me back about hiking today and I don't really feel like going alone.
I have the problems of the lucky.

I am an ingrate.

Yesterday, in the grocery store buying birthday presents for my son's friends, I stopped in the frozen dinner aisle for what may have been the first time in my entire life, and I saw these little microwave entrees for a dollar each. A dollar. What the hell, that looks pretty fucking questionable. I selected a dozen of the more revolting-looking ones and trundled them along with my sixer of High Life tallboys (for the demolition, for fuck's sake. You can't do proper demolition without Miller High Life in cans) to round up my son and make my purchase.

Now, for fun, for shits and giggles, I'm sitting in my office eating a goddamn Salisbury Steak I got for a dollar. It is 100% as disgusting as you probably imagine it to be, and I'm enjoying the fuck out of it.

Later, I'm going grocery shopping at the Dollar Store. For thrills. For food that not only I, but pretty much no one, wants to eat.

This is America, guys.

[Doktor Howl]

Yeah, and you know what else is America?  I'm sitting here with numb hands, which turned out to not be neuralgia or pinched nerves, but plain old stress.  I don't even have that much to stress out over.  I have a stressful job, but nothing I couldn't walk away from.  I have no real stress outside of that, other than watching friends of mine turn into vegetables.  Not brain damaged, mind you, but vegetables all the same.  These were people that used to DO things, and now they sit in their house and never noticed the days drain away, while they do nothing.

And not just on Sunday, Nigel, but every day.  Nothing gets done.  A whole life of "stumbling" and apathetically checking Facebook, of sleeping way too much and at odd hours, which used to seem rakish, but now just looks like the sloth of depression and apathy.  A dirty house in a dirty town in a dirty country that nobody can seem to generate enough energy to clean.

That's America too, Nigel.

[Mesozoic Mister Nigel]

It's amazing how we can stress ourselves to death, literally to death, over nothing. In the absence of anything to stress about, we become so anxious that we cannot function. Why? Why is it that when we have everything it puts us on edge, gives us the feeling we're about to be ambushed?

There is only one thing I can do about this right now, and I'm going to do it. I'm going to go the fuck outside.

[Doktor Howl]

It's amazing how we can stress ourselves to death, literally to death, over nothing. In the absence of anything to stress about, we become so anxious that we cannot function. Why? Why is it that when we have everything it puts us on edge, gives us the feeling we're about to be ambushed?

There is only one thing I can do about this right now, and I'm going to do it. I'm going to go the fuck outside.

Me, too.  Heading down I-19 for some badwrong fun.

[Mesozoic Mister Nigel]

I'ma ride my bike to the Dollar Store and load up on weird shit. Then maybe I'll go to the woods.

[P3nT4gR4m]

On the subject of stress, this is my take.

The human body thrives on stress. You hear all the time about "unhealthy levels of stress" but what they don't tell you is that stress is like vitamin fucking 'C' - Sure if you take too much it gets ugly but the bottom line is you need it or your body will just roll over and die. What you don't want is too much of the wrong kind but the way they seem to sell it looks, to me at least, like selling a fat guy anorexia as a diet plan.

Maybe what you need is a little more stress in your life. The right kind of stress, whatever suits you best. Maybe the kind of stress that jumping out a plane with nowt but a bit of silk tied to your back to break the fall brings or maybe the more sedate kind that comes from watching a good slasher movie.

If you don't give your body enough good healthy stress it'll start feeding on itself, stressing over stupid shit that doesn't make any sense. Empty, shitty stress, loaded with transfats and sugar.

Just my 2c

[Requia ☣]

Hmm, there is merit to that.  The body can only maintain stress of the HolyShitRunAway type for about half an hour.  I wonder if you burn yourself out on adrenaline if that really would keep the negative reactions from day to day stress at bay...

[Mesozoic Mister Nigel]

I don't know if it's stress, really, or if it's challenge. I think that's why I keep eating ridiculous things... it's a stupid challenge, but it's a challenge.

It's not that making and shipping enough beads every week to feed my family isn't a challenge; it's that it's an OLD challenge. So maybe we need novelty, as well, because it forces us to learn.

The same old scenario day after day, week after week, breeds discontent because it lacks stimuli.


In other news, the Dollar Store was a (near) total disappointment in terms of weird food. However, I did stock up on a bunch of basics for cheap, and bought a box of shelf-stable milk. Also they had organic frozen peaches.

Still no hiking buddy. I might go to the beach instead.

[Richter]

I'ma ride my bike to the Dollar Store and load up on weird shit. Then maybe I'll go to the woods.

[Kai]

Hmm, there is merit to that.  The body can only maintain stress of the HolyShitRunAway type for about half an hour.  I wonder if you burn yourself out on adrenaline if that really would keep the negative reactions from day to day stress at bay...

Doing aerobic exercise maybe? It's a thought, maybe a good one.

The body requires a certain amount of daily muscle/respiratory/cardiovascular/immune/neural work for the system to function properly. Like lubrication for your engine, or how a car doesn't run well if you don't drive it on the highway often enough.

[Mesozoic Mister Nigel]

These "mixed marinated mushrooms" that proudly claim "an unusual texture" on the label are utterly disgusting.

[Requia ☣]

Hmm, there is merit to that.  The body can only maintain stress of the HolyShitRunAway type for about half an hour.  I wonder if you burn yourself out on adrenaline if that really would keep the negative reactions from day to day stress at bay...

Doing aerobic exercise maybe? It's a thought, maybe a good one.

The body requires a certain amount of daily muscle/respiratory/cardiovascular/immune/neural work for the system to function properly. Like lubrication for your engine, or how a car doesn't run well if you don't drive it on the highway often enough.

Hmm, if I remember right runners do have some funky brain chemistry...

Doing some googling, it looks like runners who don't go for the marathon level show reduced stress.  I can't find much for non running aerobics though.

[Mesozoic Mister Nigel]

I call my version "go the fuck outside"

[Richter]

"I want food.  As fast as possible, and made by  not goingto be healthysomeone else.  I want the filth, the fake cheese, grease and unnatural taste!  CHEAP!  Gratification that I KNOW is a bad idea. I WANT AMERICA!"

It's about 6:30 AM on a Monday.  I've already been up for an hour, pulling off a record shower/ shave, locating workable clothes, and getting my butt out to the early train.  I'm sore right now.  Despite knocking out for 9 hours I'm still tired.  Despite warm showers, stretches, and some heinously high calorie food, I am still sore from fantastic fun swinging a massive sword on Sunday.   I could spend an entire life waiting for things to be perfect, but I'd miss all of it.
Breakfast is not going to be healthy.

[Doktor Howl]

Breakfast is not going to be healthy.

I had leftover vindaloo.

This meeting is not going to be healthy.