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.

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I’ve noticed as I get older, I’m more comfortable distilling my personal credos into easily digestible phrases. There’s a tendency to revere a certain opacity when it comes to philosophizing, but all of that balderdash can smeared across someone else’s shit sandwich. Instead, I prefer my touchstones to be accessible and to the point.

Be excellent to each other.

One must picture Sisyphus happy.

Existence precedes essence.

Goddamn it, you’ve got to be kind.

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Goddamn, if I don’t feel like MacReady these days. Like, my body may very well lay in bed for eight hours every night. Maybe more! But, fuck me sideways. Whatever I’m engaging in certainly isn’t restful sleep. Probably getting in some good core workouts though, whilst I slumber. Motherfucking tossing! Motherfucking turning! Just fucking tired, man. And while I can wear my faithful baseball cap to cover my bedhead, I can’t hide these bags under my eyes from coworkers and students.

Eh, fuck it! It’s a pandemic. If bags under my eyes are the greatest of my physical concerns, I’ll jot myself down as blessed.

Anyways, this is Monday Morning Commute! You know the motherfucking drill! I’ll share what I’m partaking in, to distract and titillate myself. Then, you’ll join me in the comments. Sharing your own distractions, distinctions, and diatribes.

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Hey, friends! Welcome to another edition of Monday Morning Commute, within the current pandemically painful climate! I must confess, these posts are a bit difficult to write as of late. Not that I don’t want to hang with you all — in fact, I think that may be the primary reason I churn them out at all. Rather, it’s just deeply, deeply difficult for me to concentrate on anything days. One minute I’ll be cruising along the highway of Vibe City, and the next I’m contemplating society, the health of my friends, and the health of my wife’s employment and my own. But, what the fuck can you do? Cave? No way! Instead, we must make like Rambo.

That’s right. Strip off our shirts, oil up our bodies, and launch explosive-tipped arrows at our malaise. Let our hair be as beautiful as him, and let our aim be as true.

I’ll go first! Join me in the comments.

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It ain’t depression, friends! It’s COVID-19! And baby is it ever striking! I’m on Spring Break, but Spring Break during the apocalypse doesn’t really pop. You know? Everything is closed. Nothing to do. Except sit around, worry about my job, eat too much, and refresh /r/coronavirus. Not good! Not good at all.

As someone who needs the gym not just for his body, but for his mind, this is a bit of a tough stretch. As someone who needs social interaction and routine just to slathered together a dinted, but functioning psyche, this is a bit of a tough stretch.

Which is why I need you more than ever, my friends! To help me bask in the frivolity and distractions that we need to pad our lives with. Perhaps not solely bask in, but times like this prove more than ever, we need as humans.

Here’s what’s on my motherfucking mind this week, friends. The arts I’m embracing, the fears that are chasing, and other miscellany bullshit. I hope you’ll join me in the comments. ‘Cause, like, what the fuck else are you doing?

This is the Coronavirus Non-Commute, the really weird temporary off-shoot of Monday Morning Commute.

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Golly gee come down to the Space-Ship OMEGA! We’re having an Eschaton of fun here within the walls of the faithful tin can in digital orbit! But, friends, I must confess something. I think there’s a general paucity in the zeitgeist when it comes to really comprehending the situation on this globe, which is currently somewhere between a shit-covered molotov to the face of Western culture, and a dumpster filled with spiked light bulbs dropped on our cumulative balls.

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Self-immolation is a hell of a drug, friends! Ask the DNC, as they continue to tear the walls down on themselves to prevent the Bern. Shit, ask me! On those dark nights where it feels like 8,000 calories of M&Ms makes way more sense than trying to fight my way out of my malaise! But, it’s fucking futile! We’re going to get another Trump presidency, and I could end up in a waistband three-sizes bigger than currently constituted. But if I’m being honest? The former seems way more plausible than the later, as I sip my deeply unfulfilling weekday smoothie that serves as both breakfast and lunch.

None the less, what’s the key to staving off self-immolation?

What are the secret ingredients of the Anti-Apocalypse serum?

I’m happy to tell you!

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Man, I know it’s been a hot minute since I’ve been here! Spinning off a Monday Morning Commute! But, I’m going to level with you. Just been mired in a February Funk. Fucking ashen skies, long-ass work days. Been feeling the funk. The February Funk! However, don’t think that means I don’t miss ya’ll! I do, I truly do!

Especially since Bateman and I have not been able to stream due to scheduling conflicts. Streaming on Saturday nights is the perfect way to spend a Saturday night (in my opinion), but it also puts directly in the Existential Line of Fire. That said, we’re back this week, though! And I hope you’ll join us.

Until then! Let me tell you what I’ve been enjoying and anticipating as of late, in-between foggy-headed malaises and eating too much.

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Feels great, baby! Being back to school. Like, no, really. For the moment, it does. The break was needed, but a little forward momentum is nice. At a certain point, relaxing just sort of feels normal. There ain’t the pang of appreciation anymore when you sit down to watch a movie. Or hang out with a friend. So, fuck yeah! I’m back in motion, for fifteen weeks. Dusted off the brain-piece, and have officially begun rambling, swearing, and sweating in front of students.

However, as I said, this means I actually have things to look forward to enjoying.

What are said things? I’m glad you asked! I’ll tell you down below, as well as what I’ve been digging on since we last spoke.

Let’s spend time, fellow sentient beings.

This is Monday Morning Commute.

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What’s good, friends? It’s a cold as fuck day here along the Northeastern seaboard of the Empire proper! I’m bundled up, hunkered down, and penning this love letter to the distractions that fill my life! To distract me from mortality, working on my syllabus, and other more pressing, but much less enjoyable opportunities.

That is, of course, the modus operandi of Monday Morning Commute.

I go “blah blah blah I’m enjoying these things” in this here post.

Then you go “blah blah blah I’m enjoying these things” in the comments.

What a great time!

No, seriously.

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