In the last eight months I’ve only managed to run one incremental backup to DLT.
This is not good. I know where this leads. This leads to me losing precious data—photographs, writing, work, etc.
I need to pull myself together, get up the motivation to do some data cleanup, and then run a backup. I have been down this road too many times to not know better.
— § —
I have another bunch of stuff that needs to be sold on eBay. I need to pull myself together and get this done, too.
There is no point in having things sitting around losing value when I can use the clams.
In general, there are more than a couple non-pressing, “needs to be done,” “pull myself together” tasks on the list that ought to be attended to. I know better. I need to respect myself and reality enough to move muscles and make them happen.
— § —
Most of the time I go along through life doing my best and making the sense I can of things, staying relatively stable (all things considered) in the face of the state of sheer bizarreness that is being a person.
But like a kind of subterranean heartbeat, I periodically have these stretches of down-ness, like everyone. They tend to last a few hours, at worst a couple of days. They suck. In these moments, the full force of everything that is a risk in my life, of everything that I have ever lost, of my age, and of my trajectory as a human being tend to overtake and obscure other thoughts. I know that this is happening, in general, so I can mitigate against it and continue on as normal. But the experience is not a pleasant one.
Often it starts in the middle of the night; I’ll wake up without remembering any particular dream but feeling vaguely panicked and desperate, with no particular remedy at hand and the distinct awareness that my mind is playing tricks on me. After all, I went to bed in no particular trouble, maybe even completely happy, and nothing new has happened over the course of the few hours that I’ve slept.
Rationalizing helps me to keep on keeping on, and to avoid giving in to wild impulses toward control and action that used to plague me, say, when I was in my twenties.
Still, it’s not comfortable.
I don’t suppose too many people have ever arrived at the condition of having no particular downs in life, just ups. I’d like to get there someday. Mine aren’t too bad—again, all things considered—in that they don’t leave me incapacitated and they only last a few hours to maybe a day or three. But life would be better, and I would be so much more, without them.