#Monday Morning Commute
It’s Tuesday, somewhere. It’s Tuesday, here! But, is it really Tuesday here? Who knows when you’re accessing this. Or, how you’re accessing this. From a phone, in 2025? From the past, via a digital-psychic projection? Are you wallowing in flesh-bound linear timespace? Or, have you transcended? Am I even fucking alive when you read this? Am I even alive right now, as I type this/typed this/will be typing this? Man, I don’t fucking know.
What do I know? That I’m lucky enough to have a place to vomit about space. What do I know? That I’m lucky enough to have you fellow fellows who are willing to engage in my hippie stupidity! What do I know? That I’m about to share what I’m looking forward to this week, and then I’m going to humbly request you join me in the comments section!
How the fuck does that sound? Did that sound? Will that sound? Hopefully good/good/good!
This is Monday Morning Commute.
Coming in late, motherfuckers! Really sprinting down the digital aisles, asshole flapping in the wind. Man, the things I do to get MMC up on the regular! Seriously though, it’s late! I’m tired! But, I’m feeling good. Today was the first day of my summer semester, and I’ve missed teaching like a motherfucker.
After class concluded, I went downstairs wild-eyed and jacked up. My wife Sam said I seemed “energized” and I think that’s accurate. Parts of my brain just activate when I’m teaching, and I’m going to level with you. I don’t feel as though what I did the final eight-weeks or so of the Spring semester really were teaching. Or learning. Just an odd, confusing miasma that the students and I waded through together.
Confusion, asynchronous assignments, endurance. Yup, that’s really all we fucking put into this past Spring. But, with a new semester arises new excitement. At this point, the expectations are clear on both ends. And, I can just focus on transmuting my madness into the digital world. My primary concern at this juncture? Not swearing so much, since I assume not all my students will be rocking headphones.
Mamma mia, I’m finally going to get fired.
Anyways, I’m here! As I said. Ass out. Smile on. Caffeine consumed. Ready to tell you what I’m up to this week! What I’m looking forward to, what I’m rocking out to, what I’m cocking out to. Then, I hope you’ll join me in the comments! Motherfuckers!
This is Monday Morning Commute!
Friends, we’re in the seasonal Gilded Age right now in the Northeast. The days are getting longer, the dusk is getting sexier, and the days are warm but not oppressive. It’s a wonderful development, given that really the outdoors are the only refuge from the pandemic. However, even if I could buy candles, shop for clothes, and load up on supplements, it would still be the outdoors I prefer. Especially given the weather these days.
Carpe the longer days and tank top weather, baby! But, that ain’t all I’m up to this week. And thus, therefore, verily, forsooth, something something, I’m going to share my happenings with you! Then, I hope you’ll join me in the comments section.
The Universe, as expressed through time, don’t give two tugs of Fate’s tits about us, my friend. And in some ways, that’s pretty fucking freeing. Lord knows, we’re fucking it up down here with an alacrity and casualness that would definitely piss off most religion’s Gods. But, they don’t exist and we’re alone, and the Universe is just humming along. Indifferent, but wonderful. Detached, but in a sort of measured, comforting manner.
Anyways, the whole reason I started babbling about existence, the Cosmos not even mustering a shrug at humanity, and all this happy horseshit is thus: I’m celebrating my five-year anniversary on Saturday. What the absolute fuck, how the absolute fuck have five years passed already?
In many ways, 2015 was a severe mid-series reboot of my existence. To the extent that, while I don’t regret any of the choices, I would never stack such changes on top of one another so quickly. In the span of three months I got married, bought a house, and got a dog.
There was a moment that autumn where I asked myself, “Who the fuck am I? And what the fuck am I doing?” in a sort of feverish worry.
But, now it’s difficult to picture myself not living with my wife, walking my dog, or fondly returning to my small house. Which is an overly opaque way of saying I enjoy my life, and I find myself smiling now at the chaos. Perhaps that’s the goal, to be able to come out the other side of the Tumult, and be able to smile at it.
Who knows. I’m bloviating, per usual.
Only tangentially related to that saccharine blast of textual diarrhea is this here column, Monday Morning Commute! Or, maybe I’m just being disingenuous. ‘Cause when I think of what I enjoy most in my life, spending time here and on Twitch with the rest of the OL community is high on the list.
So my dudes, let’s hang out. Shoot the shit about what we’re getting into this week.
I’ll go first!
I’m on vacation, but fuck I’m awful at enjoying it. Nothing says “I’m fucking crushing this relaxing thing” like waking up at 9:30 this morning, veins white-hot with irrational anxiety. But! I’m happy to say I have rallied since then. Took a two-mile walk, exercised a bit. Sucked in the rays from the Central Engine, and felt my rectum loosen just a bit. Just–a-bit. However, that’s better than nothing, right? And folks, good news.
I’m asking you to help loosen my rectum even further. That’s right, that’s right! Pull up a chair, and shoot the shit with me. Tell me what you’re looking forward to this week, and watch in glee-and-horror as the ole o-ring relaxes to a healthy sort of dour droop. I don’t ask for much, but I’m asking for this. Let us imbibe in the sweetened, honeyed nectar of community, together. And share in the experience of watching as he gets me where I need to be.
This is Monday Morning Commute.
I slept like a motherfucker Friday evening, friends. Or should I say, about 3 am on Saturday morning until 11:30 or so. By God, could I finally be relaxing? I mean, I ain’t been sleeping at all during this Rolling Nightmare. But, I think with the semester ending and myself accepting the homeostasis of such, I’m relaxing a bit. Fuck, I hope so! Maybe it’s a one-off, but I’m hoping for an emergent theme.
Anyways, I’m hanging in there. Can’t really complain, all things considered. Got my (physical) health, a tenuous grasp on my (mental) health, and I enjoy hanging out with you little fuckers.
You know the goddamn drill with this column, you really do! Unless you’ve just stumbled across this Monument to Madness! In which case, I’ll let you know. This is Monday Morning Commute! Every week, us depraved denizens of the Space-Ship gather! Then, we shoot the shit about what we’re up to on a given week. The books we’re reading! The genitals we’re manipulating! The games we’re playing. Anything and everything!
And per usual, I’ll go first.
Hard not to feel nostalgic, when the Planet is shuddered, and there’s nowhere to go, right? Also, hard not to feel nostalgic when I’m currently dong-deep in Final Fantasy 7 and classic horror movies, right? Anyways, I’m feel nostalgic as fuck, and old to boot. Nothing gets you thinking of the past like salivating over the remake of your favorite game of all time, and feeling the gravel in your elbows shift every time you try to do a tricep press.
Anyhoo, enough about my lachrymal, romanticized peering into my past! I’m stoked to spend the present with you folks, right here! In the latest edition of Monday Morning Commute! You know, the weekly gathering where we, uh, gather, and share what we’re up to!
I’ll go first, but lord, oh lord, I hope you’ll join me in the comments section!
Talking Heads lyrics fucking speaking to me today, man. How is life during the pandemic, this week? Same as it ever was. Alternatively, the title of the song those lyrics are from is also apropos. Once in a lifetime. ‘Cause fuck me, if we have to live through this goddamn trash a second time. And okay, I’m not counting some sort of recurrent wave that’s indubitably hitting this fall. I mean, like — when it’s done.
Another week has passed. Nothing has changed, at least for the better. More morons outside. Increasing death rates, increasing infection rates. Extending stay-at-home orders in my state. The mundanity and the madness trudges forward.
Same as it ever was. Same as it will be.
However, it ain’t all bad news, motherfuckers! Nope! Nope. In fact, yesterday I recorded my final “virtual” classes for my students. All that stands between the end of the semester and me is two weeks of grading, and Zoom sessions. Not bad. Not bad at all.
I have to say, I guess I’m not depressed today, though! Small victories. Day by day. How do I know? Well, I’m actually stoked for shit. And, I’d like to tell you what I’m stoked for, friends!
This is Monday Morning Commute!
You fuckin’ want one? Then meet me in the streets, brother! It’s pretty easy to find me. Follow the smell of sweaty gym balls (who fucking showers these days) until you see a goddamn calamity with a fierce mustache. Oh, you’re telling me you can’t go out into the streets? Because of a responsible respect for the quarantines across the globe? Well, count yourself lucky! ‘Cause I respect that. Instead, how about you hang the fuck out with me here at Monday Morning Commute.
In lieu of a fucking tilly, we can shoot the shit. Share what we’re delving into this week, in order to stave off boredom. Discuss what we’re smashing open across our synapses, in order to prevent the ever present sense of doom from fully consuming us.
I’ll go first, cause I started this dance. But, after you’re done checking out what I’m up to, I demand that you swing back.
It’s only fair!
Oh lord, here it we go again! Another installment of MMC during this motherfucking Groundhog’s Day-ass type fucking rolling nightmare! Hey! I suppose you can see how I’m doing during all this, eh? Seriously though, ups and downs. Ins and outs. Getting stoned and sulking, getting high and smiling. The semester is always a grind during this time of the year, and the Pandemic Multiplier has me flat-out exhausted. But, we must kick reason to the curb! And go beyond the impossible. It’s what Kamina would want, and we must not let Kamina down.
The mornings are the worst, though. As the waves of reality break upon my fractured psyche, and I realize that once again we’re in this bitch. As the day pushes forth, though, I find my mood lightening. The rituals take hold, the caffeine grips my nervous system, and I redouble my efforts to not eat my weight in pizza, keep up a workout routine, and get through the workday.