Pointless

NOTE: This story contains themes of mental health and talk of death, which may be disturbing to some.

Monday, June 2, 2025 - 8am

My hopes and dreams that the weekend would somehow magically continue after Sunday were crushed, again, under the weight of my mortgage, car payment, insurance, and grocery budget.All of these, and more, conspired to force me back to work this dreadful day of the week. As usual, I'll likely start the day by staring at my computer screen wondering why I do this day in and day out, despite the aforementioned balls and chain. Eventually I'll shake loose by checking my emails for small nuggets of gold amongst the overwhelming morass of dung. Then I'll break from that depressing activity to toast a bagel and brew my bold, black go-juice. I'll come back and review the following to-do list (because someone told me that successful people start the day with a good list. I’m certain it’s a lie):

Verify nightly reports ran successfully

Verify database created successfully

Query database for anomalies

Prepare for daily stand-up meeting

Begin drafting training plan for upcoming course

Verify sanity is still marginally intact

Then, with loathing, I will actually <shiver> work.

Monday, June 2, 2025 - 8pm

Work is finally done. I can't feel my fingers. I'm ready for bed, but I have bills to pay, need food, and I forgot I have a dog.

Tuesday, June 3, 2025 - 7am

Woke up three times overnight. One was a nightmare about having to go to the bathroom but I couldn’t find it. One was having to actually go to the bathroom (I found it, thank you). I don't know why I woke up the third time, but apparently I had to go to the bathroom anyway, so…there's that. Technically I woke up four times, because here I am in my waking nightmare. Why do I bother? Oh yeah, mortgage, etc. I think it may be time to find another job. Who am I kidding; I've been saying that for five years. I must love torture.

Tuesday, June 3, 2025 - 1pm

Took a half day. Stomach feels like it's in knots. I forgot to eat breakfast, but I remembered I had a dog this time, although not until around 10am. I'm taking some antacid and lying down.

Tuesday, June 4, 2025 - 10pm

Stomach still feels like there's an alien trying to claw its way out. Urgent care may be in my future.

Wednesday, June 5, 2025 - 9am

No work. Headed to Urgent Care. I probably have cancer. Dying wouldn’t be so bad, if they can give me something for the pain.I hear CBD is a miracle drug.

Wednesday, June 5, 2025 – 10am

I need to find a better Urgent Care. This one is close, but they're about as friendly as a school of piranhas. On top of that, it’s standing room only in the waiting room just to get seen. It’s probably going to be another millennia before I see an actual doctor.

I didn’t bring a book. Thank goodness for smartphones and journaling apps so I have something to do. Let’s see…what ways could I die from cancer?

It could grow to the point of obstructing my stomach, and I'd starve to death. Or choke off my intestines. Same result.

It might metastasize to my brain, and I'd turn into a vegetable before dying.

Or, it could evolve into a new lifeform, take over my brain and hijack my flesh for a joyride, before killing us both from its parasitic existence.

Or….maybe it’s mad cow disease and not cancer. Maybe I’m turning into a cow, and my stomach is splitting like a cell. That would certainly make life interesting. I’d have four stomachs to develop cancer in.

So many ways to die.

I really should have brought a book.

Wednesday, June 5, 4pm

The doctor finally saw me.

I have an ulcer. They gave me antibiotics.

The dog left me presents while I was gone.

I miss having my son close by. Talking on the phone just isn’t the same. I called him anyway, to let him know I wasn’t dying, but he was in the middle of a shoot. I may have choked up before disconnecting.

Thursday, June 6, 2025 - 9am

I'm taking the rest of the week off to heal. The doc said to focus on fiber for a while, so it's shredded wheat, skim milk, and low-fat yogurt for breakfast. Yum.<sigh> Why do I even try? I feel pathetic.

Maybe I just need to find some hobbies. Can watching TV be considered a hobby?

Thursday, June 6, 2025 – 3pm

I started that hobby, watching reruns of Happy Days. Were they? I have my doubts.

Friday, June 7, 2025 - 11am

Slept in. The antibiotics must be working, because I feel better. I’m still not working. I'm pretty sure doing my job would cause the ulcer to expand and devour my internal organs, and possibly my laptop just for kicks.

Friday, June 7, 2025 – 4pm

Lounging too long in front of the TV makes me feel worse, not better, so I decided to go for a walk. Earbuds in, music on. Even after getting in a good sweat, I felt…lighter. Why don’t I do this more often? I’m stupid, that’s why.

Friday, June 7, 2025 – 7pm

Showered and shaved, for a raucous Friday night. Unfortunately, I have no place to go and no one to do it with. Introversion doesn’t lend itself to bar hopping. Nor does being sober.

It’s a lonely existence. Not really worth it, most days, if I’m being honest.

I think even my dog has forgotten about me.

Saturday, June 8, 2025 –

No entry

Sunday, June 9, 2025 - 11pm

David came to visit on Saturday. I may have bear-crushed him. We went to Great Falls and enjoyed the crisp air and mist from the churning river. We walked the towpath and talked about his photography business. He's doing gigs nearly every weekend, although he took this one off to spend with me. He's making enough money to live reasonably well, and he's having fun. That's the most important thing. I talked about retiring, in a distant sort of way. He said he'll support me in whatever I choose to do. I told him that for years! It's hard to imagine hearing it from him, but the tables do turn as we age. My pride at the man he's become is overwhelming. No, I'm not crying, it's just dusty!

We ate and talked. We ate more and talked more. My ulcer was banished to the netherworld, never to be seen again. We saw a movie and talked through the whole thing, to the consternation of the other patrons. Too bad for them.

I miss him when he's not here, now that he's moved out. But when he is here…the world is a better place, and I have hope again. He stayed the whole weekend.

This. This is why I keep going.

He had to go back to his place an hour ago. He's got a gig in the morning, and I have work. I love him so much.

He took the dog. It's for the best. I'll get a cat.