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I know, my absence of late has left a giant gaping hole in your hearts somewhere right below the left ventricle or something. It's hard to visualize on the ultrasound, because no one in the clinic knows really how to work one of these things...
We'll hold the medical stuff at the moment, at least, as it pertains to me, except to say that we've got a loose name of what has been keeping me from living a normal life for -- well, it's been at least 20 years, but it only got particularly nasty in the last eight, and horribly blood-curdling nasty in the last five. It's a sleep disorder, they can not cure it, and if the case proves to be beyond a moderate sort of manifestation, they really can't treat it terribly effectively. A lot of non-sleep/neurological doctors will tell you that they can... There's this new drug... Uh. No.
Long and the short is, the sleep-neuro-guy says that I function at about 20% capacity on a good day. It isn't going to get better than that at this point, or even in the mid-range future.
So I've come to terms with the fact I am not going back to work in a normal environment. I've come to terms that I will never be able to see a movie in a theater again. I'm trying to deal with the idea that if I can come home and mentally function (or at least not walk into solid objects) after a twenty minute trip to the grocery store, I am having a pretty damn good day.
I hate not doing stuff. You know that, right?
I was blogging previously at Download Squad. Fine, the pay sucked, but it wasn't about that. It had absolutely nothing to do with that. I just didn't want my brain to atrophy. It was fun, too. Kept me to a schedule where I at least felt like I had something to shoot for. And if I was writing, felt crappy, and needed to lay down suddenly, I could do it. I could lay down and get up and lay down every twenty minutes if I needed to. No one would care.
Met some damn fine people there. I am podcasting with one, and we're finally on the road to getting the freakin' sound issues ironed out. Just... don't listen to episode eight. It's not that the subject is bad. It just was so painfully borne of fire, saying "Eight" to Lisa or I will reduce us to tears.
I left DLS a few weeks back. There were several reasons, but mostly I knew I wouldn't do that forever, and there was some writing on the wall that it was just time. Of course, I had the podcast to keep me busy, and I was feeling reasonably confident I could at least do some part time freelance stuff.
Right, so energy's wearing thin, long and short of it: Got picked up by OStatic. Been doing that about two weeks, and yesterday managed to pull off a feat of decent geek-fu that involved a quote on CNET from a piece I wrote, and then it proceeded to get Slashdotted.
That felt way alpha geek of me, and I was into that. Totally bummed that I've got this exorbitantly expensive degree hanging on my wall I am physically unable to put to use. But you have to work with what you've got. And hey, for now, I've got this.