Back from the Desert and I'm dead beat. Slept three times yesterday. Treated my kids hard- get out of my way- I snarled, unable to respond kindly or with humanity. No sleep too many hotels, too many miles, and too many fights in the back seat from bored truck-bound boys.
So today I'm clearing and three bureacratic snarls greet me; My wife's CEU's training has been denied yet again by the Feds. This is simply politics- and unfair, as other co- workers have recieved the time and money to retain their own licences. She may have to go over everyone's heads. Hardly a delightful prospect as retaliation in bureacracies is well known. If she pays for it and takes her own time they'll use that as a precedent and never fund her again. My shrink pal revealed a horrible story when we visited the Southland about a local bureacracy- family members getting jobs, a Dept head a dangerous borderline personality, who uses coercision to get his way. Three shrinks quit that area. Yet he is nationally known and well regarded. The Union was ready to act, but my pal did the thing we all too often must- he capituated and gave the big Ass what he wanted rather than take on yet another fight. We get tired of fighting. We learn to pick them, and we accept lying when we must.
Incidently, after 10 years in mental health, I can tell you that 'lying' in chart documentation is a common practise.
But on with the show- my own Back Specialist is leaving the State suddenly, without warning or even the basic humanity to inform me, and my scripts will run out. Pound sand, munk. Eat ---- , munk I see my generalist next week but he does not want my back case as it is over his head and any other specialist in Montana is 6 hours round trip. Hardly indicated for a bad back's recovery.
I found on my trip a couple credit cards refused to function. See cashier, the read-out informed. When do you most need a credit card? When traveling or out of area, of course.
So life goes. Bullshit, too much of the time. Just useless brick-a-brack we fill our hours and days with, wearing us down with the death of ten thousand pen pushes.
I have warm memories of Uncle Bill and Yangdu, can I mention what a fantastic sweetheart she is one more time? And my visit with my pal Rusty and his family. I can't wait to get back to Hawthorne. There are miles of desert there and lots of older American trucks. Plenty of room for bullet flight, the Way God Wanted Open Space to Be. Hawthorne Nevada is a time warp. One of those places the 60's never really left.
A lot of Life is process, stuff in the way, and you wait it out, last through hoping for the Juice to come again, the good stuff. It's hard to see when you're bone tired and the sink full of dishes. The kid poops his diaper one more time and the dresser you brought back from AZ needs to be drug off the truck and up the stairs. Yeah, right; I'll call Superman. You know, there's a lot of things he does not shown in the comic books; he has to take showers often because he sweats so bad, when he used the crapper the tissue paper isn't strong enough to use, the machine won't flush, and well, we won't go there. Poor guy pulls vehicles out of fender benders, breaks up petty fights, and can't even have a beer by himself in a bar without either an autorgraph or a drunk breaking a pool stick over his head. Lot's of stuff gets in his way before he saves the World.
munk
So today I'm clearing and three bureacratic snarls greet me; My wife's CEU's training has been denied yet again by the Feds. This is simply politics- and unfair, as other co- workers have recieved the time and money to retain their own licences. She may have to go over everyone's heads. Hardly a delightful prospect as retaliation in bureacracies is well known. If she pays for it and takes her own time they'll use that as a precedent and never fund her again. My shrink pal revealed a horrible story when we visited the Southland about a local bureacracy- family members getting jobs, a Dept head a dangerous borderline personality, who uses coercision to get his way. Three shrinks quit that area. Yet he is nationally known and well regarded. The Union was ready to act, but my pal did the thing we all too often must- he capituated and gave the big Ass what he wanted rather than take on yet another fight. We get tired of fighting. We learn to pick them, and we accept lying when we must.
Incidently, after 10 years in mental health, I can tell you that 'lying' in chart documentation is a common practise.
But on with the show- my own Back Specialist is leaving the State suddenly, without warning or even the basic humanity to inform me, and my scripts will run out. Pound sand, munk. Eat ---- , munk I see my generalist next week but he does not want my back case as it is over his head and any other specialist in Montana is 6 hours round trip. Hardly indicated for a bad back's recovery.
I found on my trip a couple credit cards refused to function. See cashier, the read-out informed. When do you most need a credit card? When traveling or out of area, of course.
So life goes. Bullshit, too much of the time. Just useless brick-a-brack we fill our hours and days with, wearing us down with the death of ten thousand pen pushes.
I have warm memories of Uncle Bill and Yangdu, can I mention what a fantastic sweetheart she is one more time? And my visit with my pal Rusty and his family. I can't wait to get back to Hawthorne. There are miles of desert there and lots of older American trucks. Plenty of room for bullet flight, the Way God Wanted Open Space to Be. Hawthorne Nevada is a time warp. One of those places the 60's never really left.
A lot of Life is process, stuff in the way, and you wait it out, last through hoping for the Juice to come again, the good stuff. It's hard to see when you're bone tired and the sink full of dishes. The kid poops his diaper one more time and the dresser you brought back from AZ needs to be drug off the truck and up the stairs. Yeah, right; I'll call Superman. You know, there's a lot of things he does not shown in the comic books; he has to take showers often because he sweats so bad, when he used the crapper the tissue paper isn't strong enough to use, the machine won't flush, and well, we won't go there. Poor guy pulls vehicles out of fender benders, breaks up petty fights, and can't even have a beer by himself in a bar without either an autorgraph or a drunk breaking a pool stick over his head. Lot's of stuff gets in his way before he saves the World.
munk
Just wondering if it's the absolute necesstiy to respect the desert that does this. It's 110 out today and I would not want to be without the trusty water bottle. In this kind of heat that would be disastrous. Unless of course I had my khuk and could get to the nearest cactus i suppose. 
. I just didn't reply in this particular case. We're starting to get some nice summer heat in Chico. Went for a 40 minute walk during lunch at 100 degrees F. Definitely makes you appreciate water. My wife, on the other hand, can't stand the heat. 
