The Art Of Not Asking Why

I’m peeping from under my rock for a second, so please be gentle with me:

Can someone explain to me like I’m a 5 year old what is Trump doing that is freaking out higher education institutions so much? I hear grant money. What’s the status on that?

Please keep it as matter-of-fact as possible 🫣

It’s a very subtle thing. Today, when I was texting a friend: “Meet me at the apartment,” instead of “Meet me at home.”

This place, which I am still writing from, is not home anymore. I want to say it’s sad, maybe it is, but I don’t feel sad about it - it just is.

Two things I absolutely hate about automated phone bots: the recorded keyboard sound in the background while they “search for your information,” as if it’s a human, and that they mention you can access them online to save time. You 🤬🤬🤬, I’m obviously calling because I cant access you online.

My partner works at a small independent audiophile store, and sales are not doing good.

🎧 🎧 🎧

Anyone is looking for a good professional grade headphones or headset by any chance? They will match prices with Amazon and other sellers.

I woke up after a solid 6.5 hours of sleep, the first time since last Wednesday, and felt energized. It was a crisp day outside, cold but not bitterly so, with fresh snow on the ground.

Running was a bit too much, as I haven’t run in months. I also didn’t want to fall on ice and hurt myself, especially now when we’re packing and moving. So I went for a “snow march” instead - the idea was to push harder than my usual walking speed.

It was around 35 degrees this morning (almost 0 degrees celsius), so I dressed up as if it was 45, to account for warming up: a light coat, hoodie, cozy home pants (it’s not like anyone was up at that time on a snowy Saturday morning), and my Timberlands boots that I usually wear at this time of the year.

The goal was just to get out there. To move, walk, and stay out for a while, with the idea of completing four laps around the local park (the size of one block).

The snow was shallow and melted a bit, making that “crunch crunch” sound when I walked. I stomped my fit a bit, forcing more of my boot into the snow with each step, partly to increase my heart rate a bit but also for stability and to avoid ice.

It worked out nicely. I started warming up toward the end of the first lap and needed to take my beanie off. When I was hot enough to walk with my hands out of my pockets (I forgot my gloves…), the additional momentum from my arms' movement added to the exercise and warmth. It felt good. On my march, I spotted three miniature snowmen:

With Trainwell, the workout app I stopped using, I would have probably skipped this fun morning exercise. If I already pay a hefty sum for a workout app and a coach that comes with it, I should improvise and come up with my own ideas. Meanwhile, the app doesn’t count as an exercise, and I would need to send screenshots from my Apple Fitness to my coach to review. Because the app wouldn’t count the walk, it would still push me to do the routine for the day, making me do the usual leg exercises even though those’s the muscles I already worked on in the morning.

This flexibility is important. If I want to work out later, I’d probably concentrate on my upper body, doing isolated exercises of pushups, crunches or pull-ups without starting a whole new workout.

What’s more important now is that I did /something/. I got out there. What I did and how I did it doesn’t even come second - that sport is reserved for consistency. Picking up the habit. What I do and how I do it comes next down the line; I know that if I keep this up, I will push myself further and harder by instinct and the motivation I’ve developed, and things will fall into place. I know this because that’s been my experience since I started exercising.

I just can’t enjoy a regular cup of drip coffee, it seems. too water and bland. I need my espresso in the morning, or a good pour over from freshly ground beans. I think this qualifies me as an official coffee snob, yes?

One of the things that started to fit into my weird sleep schedule is watching stand-ups on Netflix. It takes me some time to find someone who fits my criteria, which is based on two things. First, I usually get bored with comedians who talk too much about marriage and/or kids, since these don’t relate to me and I only find them mildly funny; the second, they need to walk a thin line where they are provocative, but not downright assholes.

One of the folks whose shows I enjoyed recently is Gabriel Iglesias, who goes by Fluffy. I watched his most recent show, Legend of Fluffy, and found that while I didn’t laugh as much as I usually do, I did nod in agreement when he was talking about skittering around politically correct phrases and the importance of owning a gun. He explained it from a Republican angle; his show took place in Florida.

Something about the stand-up made it more down-to-earth, a level I can relate to and understand, not something that I usually read with a politically aware eye through a left-leaning newspaper website. It made me think, not just smile. Iglesias is, among other things, a Mexican immigrant, so listening to him describing serious issues like immigration to a crowd that mainly supports Trump (or so I assume anyway) at this time had a sense of authenticity. At one point, for example, he reflected on a show in Mexico where he performed in front of Americans who were there on behalf of their company, boasting that he caused a bunch of Americans to cross over the border to watch a Mexican. Hearing this from him made me smile about this topic for the first time.

I can’t help but think that someone like Iglesias is the kind of person we need right now. Someone who’s on both camps at the same time, who can tell a story with a sense of humor. Fluffy is a celebrity now, but he hasn’t forgotten his roots and the people that helped him reach fame, and his show is, eventually, about gratitude. This gratitude to his mentors and fans who made him what he is today touched me in a way I didn’t expect.

Yesterday, I finally managed to get through to our management company here at the apartment to let them know we’re moving out. I’ve been trying to reach them for the last two weeks unsuccessfully.

I’m worried because, on the other hand, we still don’t have the key to the new place that we found. It’s a co-op building in Manhattan, which I think is fair to say is one of the hardest places to move into. We’re throwing a lot of money into it that goes beyond just the security deposit and the first month’s rent. We are required to have insurance, we must pay for credit checks (plural, yes), we need to pay to move in, we need to pay for an inspection, we need to buy carpets because apparently, that’s one of the rules…

Financials aside, we’re also required to fill out tons of paperwork. After the lease that came first (this part is behind us; everyone signed), the documents from the board are a package of roughly 50 pages. This includes standard NYC stuff (bed bugs, guard rails, lead paint…) but also “house rules,” real estate documents, financial status statements, bank account information, and letters of recommendation - yes, we need to be recommended to live there - both personal and from the previous landlord, and on it goes. Our real estate agent is working with us on those, but it’s a nerve-racking race full of phone calls, emails, and visits to the bank.

Meanwhile, work projects do not let go. The amount of events chained together in a symphony of urgency has been almost comical. Just yesterday, for example, a new Dean joined the ranks after the previous one stepped down rather suddenly. “Why doesn’t this work?” is not a good way to start your relationship with the top VIP, but if you work in IT, you know that 80% of the time, you’re notified about a change only after something breaks. We managed to turn it around and demonstrate our skills and support. I am grateful for my unphased team, which followed through without ifs and buts.

Another major work project I’m engaged in involves overhauling network authentication throughout the entire medical center I work for. This requires new written instructions and a video clip demonstrating the changes. In the meantime, the old instructions need to be scrapped or updated from various places on the public web and the private intranet. This is where I step in, as the person who took over my role when I left for my current one was let go.

Other projects on my to-do list block my calendar and prevent me from attending my regular meetings, not to mention the aforementioned bank visits/phone calls/emails about the new place, which must happen during business hours.

So far, I’ve managed to keep my head up. I’m adjusting to sleeping in part and exercising in small intervals when I get the chance. I’m exhausted, but my mood, while serious, is not melancholic. I’m doing OK.

But I wouldn’t be without the tremendous support I get from everyone. Partners, friends, family, the people I work with. They all understand and support me. I’ve never seen so many people who know me step up in turn and say, “Yes, I can help.” I’m writing this with tears of gratefulness rolling down my cheeks, thinking of my support net. Whenever I feel too tired or overwhelmed, there’s a smile, a pat on the back, or an encouraging nod.

I hope that in a month, I will write a post from my new room in the new apartment. It would be a big upgrade for my two partners, not just me, and I’m happy for that.

Trying out Leviathan Wakes (The Expanse Book 1) by James S. A. Corey 📚. I wanted to give it a try for a while, but I’m not sure I’m up to the task at this point. We shall see.

According to my Apple Watch, the last time I slept more than 5 hours or so was Monday. Last week was similar. At work, I’m required to do two roles at once again, and it’s piling up on top of the apartment hunt. I need a vacation when this is over.

I updated my photo page plug-in and didn’t realize I had to toggle a new option. Now, it shows the photos it’s supposed to show.

Finished reading: Open Season by C. J. Box 📚 I couldn’t put it down at the end. The problem with suspense books is that they are suspenseful. It’s a good story, I wouldn’t be surprised if it comes out as a movie.

We found a good place, liked it, and were getting all our documentation in order, but then someone else applied and pulled it from underneath our feet 😡

NYC apartments are hard.

I’ve been enjoying Open Season by C. J. Box 📚. It’s a well-written (many details) country detective-suspense read. I’m at about 70%, but I figured out what’s going on already at 50% or so. Still, it’s a fun read. I enjoy being in Joe’s head, and I have quite a few life references highlighted.

Does anyone like hospitals?

You’re usually there when something bad happens. Even if it’s good, it’s wrapped in worries. Other people lie in beds in vurnabale states, all wearing the same thing. There’s this hospital smell and the silence you don’t like, but it’s better than the alternative. I don’t think it’s ever a good thing.

Yesterday was my second hospital visit this month. Everything’s fine, which may be why I feel I should write something while I come up to get air.

Micro.blog was swept by an emotional storm that surprised me. For a while, I sat there shaking my head and reading. Eventually, everything just became a bunch of loud virtual yelling that stopped making sense, so I went away to deal with my own shit, of which I have had plenty in the last few weeks. Seeing that it quieted down a bit, I think maybe it’s time to bring up a couple of general tips I found. I don’t think it can do any harm, but I can’t be sure. Someone will find a way, probably.

First, 300 characters or so is not enough to discuss complicated topics. It’s not enough to discuss anything, really, but certainly not the kind of subject I’ve seen floating around this week. Manue helped me realize this was the main part of the problem. We exchanged a few emails since, and I’m with him on this topic: if you want to say something, write it down in length, from one person to another. Don’t make a stage out of it. Another good piece that started showing on my feed (I don’t remember where I saw it first, so I can’t give credit) was “how to comment on social media,” which you should read with your sarcasm hat on, and hopefully get a laugh or two out of as well as a cringe.

I do use social media often - this is how most of you found this post. But I usually use it for short summaries of longer discussions that link back here. These days, even short questions that fit fully into a post over Mastodon come from this blog. This is one of the core things about Micro.blog. This also brings me to the next important point. Create the content on your own website, and then put it on someone else’s broadcasting machine. You don’t know what they’d do with it, and you can trust them to save it for you. Things get lost, twisted, grow teeth and bite you in the ass and then run away. Own what you say, both as a person and as a writer. This allows you to make mistakes, which you also own, and then the resolution of these mistakes is also yours.

Eventually, things will get out of hand. You’ll get upset and want to plunk that loudspeaker off the hook on the wall and give everyone a piece of your mind. But you know you shouldn’t. As soon as you feel the first “WHAP!” of someone else’s whip on social media, you have a chance to be better. Stop the lashing. Take a break. Relax. If you have your corner on the web, there’s no need to explain anything to anyone. You will respond (if at all) when you damn feel like it. And when you do, you will do it on your terms, like a conversationalist, not like a raging bull.

And this will also fail eventually. If it’s too late and the mob with the pitchforks is at your door, there are some well-tested ways to resolve disputes. (this is just one place I found with a good summary; there are many others). In short, get a mediator or an abbreviator (judge).

This will also eventually fail, and you will lash out. It’s OK. You are huamn too, a flawed mess like the rest of us. Don’t respond, and don’t defend yourself. It’s wasted energy: at this point, you’re already a monster (or fascist, or racist, or whatever the kids use these days) to the mob, and it doesn’t matter what you do. Apologize to those you care to apologize to and own your mistake (see above). Be quick about it, be polite and to the point, and move the fuck on. You have better things to do.

Who am I to be telling you these things? No one. I’m not better than anyone else. I’m just another meat bag, to quote one AI bot in a popular weather app. And this is my blog, so if you don’t like it, don’t waste your time and go somewhere else you’d enjoy more.

Now, where was I? Hospitals? Yeesh, I was yapping too long, and I barely scratched the surface of everything else going on in my life that I want to blog about. But it’s also 4 a.m. (at least when I write the draft), and I should get back to bed to get some more sleep.

If you want to say something about this, go ahead. But if you want to talk about this, email me.

A couple of years ago, I froze my credit reports with the three major credit companies in the US. At the time, I had a different phone number. Now that I’m looking to move into an apartment, I cannot log into my old accounts to lift the freeze. I have to call them instead.

It’s not going well.