#Monday Morning Commute

Monday Morning Commute: A Liminal Space Ain’t The Worst Place

monday morning commute a liminal space

Salve, bitches! That’s Latin for “hello” and pretty much all I remember from four-years of taking that language. How is everyone these days? I hope you’re hanging in there, given, you know the circumstances. What circumstances? Throw a dart at a board of world topics. Whatever it lands on? That circumstance, among the others.

That said, ain’t doing too badly over here. Surfing these waning stages of summer both in terms of the weather, lifestyle, and vacation. As I’ve oft indicated, this is one of my favorite times of the year. However in many ways, it feels like a sort of holding pattern. I can sense that Fall and the semester are looming, which leads to a bit of anxiety. At the same time though, I got myself open evenings and late rises. It’s a liminal space, and it ain’t the worst place.

I know! Oh, god, do I know. Know what? That in about seven weeks I’m going to be looking back longingly on this specific moment in space-time. You know, as I’m buried under my first or second wave of papers to grade, with seasonal depression tag-teaming with my usual state of mental illness. Really just blasting my balls, the two of them taking turns. Occasionally teaming-up for an impressive tandem move.

Anyways, you all know the fucking rigmarole here. It’s Monday Morning Commute! What are you fuckers up to this week? What are you basking in, as the days grow shorter, the air grows colder, and Autumn begins to walk into the room?

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Monday Morning Commute: Nothing Promised.

monday morning commute nothing promised

Hey, friends! Apologies for the tardiness! Mea culpa, mea dumb ass. I think I butchered the Latin there, but who knows. It’s a fucking dead language. Who is going to stop me? Motherfuckers buried under the rubble of Mount Vesuvius? Some nerd Latin scholar at University? Step-up bitches, and face a Superkick Party. Anyways, I’m genuinely sorry I’m dropping this MMC on a Tuesday.

In case you’re wondering why? Man, I’m fucking fighting it this week! Fighting what? Just a general sense of existential malaise. A sexier way of describing my various chemical imbalances compounded by the flat-out Dumpster Fire that is life in the United States  Just the act of sitting down and compiling words in a WordPress document seems pretty overwhelming. But, I’m here motherfuckers! Sometimes the act of just pushing through is helpful. You know? Maybe you know.

Anyways. Any-fucking-hoo, here we have Monday Morning Commute! Truth be told I’m digging a lot of shit these days, and these arts & farts are genuinely helping me through the week. So, I’ll drop them below, and I hope you’ll share your own collection of happenings and happiness-inducing activities in the comments.

This is Monday Morning Commute.

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Monday Morning Commute: A Legacy of Ghosts

monday morning commute a legacy of ghosts

Hey, friends! I know, Monday Morning Commute is a day late! But as my wife and I always say around that time of the month, “better late than not at all”, right? Here we are! Me kicking shit off crass as hell, which I suppose is par for my idiotic, juvenile course. How are you friends? Are you surviving the never ending Maelstrom of Cruelty and Resignation that is America in 2020? I hope so, dudes. I hope so. It ain’t easy, though! I’m feeling it lately.

From the privileged problems like not being able to go out to eat, to the more resonant ones like worrying about my job. My anxiety runs the whole gauntlet! Meanwhile, I suppose I’m just struggling with the loss of normalcy. I had a dream over the weekend that it was my first day back in the classroom after this whole son of a bitch runs its course. You know, to the extent that it ever will. COVID-19 is here forever in some form, baby! ‘Cause we all fucked up. But, man. That dream felt fucking good. I miss it, I genuinely do, the motherfucking classroom. My ass snapped awake, and there was just this melancholic-ass feeling in my guts.

I admit if my biggest sadness is not being able to teach in a classroom, I’m doing fucking well. Great, even. That said, it does register like a nut-punch to the existential nards that I’ll be teaching from home all Fall. Spring too, probably.

Anyways, enough caterwauling from this blubbering bitch. This is Monday Morning Commute! As probably all four of you know. Which means I’m about to give you a rundown of what I’m enjoying this week, what I’m looking forward to this week, and all of that other happy horseshit. Per usual, I hope you’ll join me in the comments. Ain’t gonna blame ya if you don’t, though!

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Monday Morning Commute: The Practicing of Pragmatic Hope

monday morning commute the practicing of pragmatic hope

Hello, good friends! How is it going? Hope you’re staying healthy, hope you’re staying cool. There’s an absolute fucking monstrosity of a heat wave plastering the Northeast, and I’m realizing taking my daily two-mile walk was not the best idea. Said realization stemming from what can only be described as a scorched-ass feel from my unadorned cheeks. But, fuck! You know how it goes, dudes. I need my steps on the regular! Without a campus to canvas, it’s way too easily to let my pallid ass (a lot of me is tanned — my ass, and accompanying asshole? pale) fall into a sedentary lifestyle.

However, I’m paying the tab for it right now. A cruel mistress, nature happens to be. A beautiful one as well, though. What must be understood, what must be accepted, though — is she bargains with no one.

Anyways! Outside of a sun-raked skull-piece, I’m doing well. Today marks the true beginning of my pseudo-vacation. And dammit, I’m feeling better already. I’m sleeping, I’m more relaxed, Reality and All Its Horrors seem a bit more endurable. However,  I don’t know if it’s disappointing to know that this isn’t how I always feel, you know? Like, this certainly isn’t my typical disposition. Or rather, my disposition during the middle of the semester. That said, at the same time? Perhaps I wouldn’t appreciate these moments of placidity if they were the norm. That said, at the same-same-same time? That’s probably the perspective the Endless Behemoth of Industry and Cultural Commands To Hustle To Death want me to fall for!

Eh, what the fuck can you do? Enjoy the moment, motherfuckers. It’s really all that’s promised our asses, anyways.

This is Monday Morning Commute!

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Monday Morning Commute: It Ain’t Palm Springs, But It’ll Do

monday morning commute it aint palm springs but itll do (1)

What’s up, you grease-covered, slickened pieces of shit?! Or, rather that’s how I imagine your body. ‘Cause like most people, I can only imagine others bound by my own circumstances. You see, it’s hot as fuck out here in the Northeast. And that’s how I would describe myself. Greasy. Slick. Horny for air conditioning and ass. Hungry for cool breezes and caloric depravity. And most importantly? Feeling half-decent. With the semester winding down, I can feel my mind-anus unclenching. I’ve found myself sleeping a bit more deeply, and awakening a bit more carefree.

All of this explains why I’m actually writing an MMC on a Monday evening! Ha! Wowzers! Take a carrot, shine it with petroleum jelly, and stick it in my ass! Watch as I scream in delight! Cover the eyes of small children and other innocent passersby!

Anyways, what the fuck, let’s do this shit!

Here’s the detritus swirling up against my life-hole this week, tempting me, plugging me, encouraging me. I hope you’ll join me in the comments!

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Monday Morning Commute: Meditation and Magic

monday morning commute meditation and magic

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.

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Monday Morning Commute: You Will Be Happy

monday morning commute you will be happy

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!

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Monday Morning Commute: Mandala

monday morning commute mandala

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.

This is Monday Morning Mountain Biking Commute!

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Monday Morning Commute: Five Years In A Lifetime

monday morning commute five years in a lifetime

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!

Shazam!

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Monday Morning Commute: Prayers Up!

monday morning commute prayers up

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. Justa-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.

Please?

This is Monday Morning Commute.

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