The time I did nothing


Ever have one of those days? A day when you don’t feel like doing anything? I mean, nothing. At all. I’m having one of those days. Right now.

I don’t feel like playing games. I don’t feel like reading. There’s nothing I particularly want to watch. I don’t feel like going anywhere. I don’t feel like napping. I sure as hell don’t feel like doing the dishes or the laundry. I don’t, it may surprise you, feel like writing.

I could, literally (the real ‘literally’, not the ironic ‘literally’), sit here and do absolutely nothing. Nothing. Stare at the wall not moving, nothing.

Tomorrow I’d feel bad about it. Monday I’d feel even worse. I’d sit there at work thinking, “Man, I had all day Saturday to move those boxes into the closet. To disconnect the unused computer equipment and move it out of the way. I could have played games all day. I wish I could do any of that right now.”

But right now, nah, I don’t feel like doing it. Any of it. I sure don’t want to feel bad Monday, though.

So I’ll do my laundry. Not so much for me, but for the people I have to be around. If I worked from home I’d just not do it and sit around working in my underwear. Or nothing. Maybe just socks. I don’t work from home, though, so that means wearing clothes. What a fascist society we live in. But, again, it’s not for me so much as the people I have to be around.

I should write about something, though. If I’m going to go through the trouble of typing something. Let me look around. Nope, that’s not helping. All I see is crap.

I think the problem is that I didn’t get much sleep last night. I think, and this is going to sound a little sad, but I think I was so excited about getting an external SSD for my Mac that I just couldn’t sleep. It’s very small, thankfully; it could probably fit in a cigarette pack. It’s thin, so maybe two would fit.

But I’m tired right now. I don’t want to take a nap because if I sleep for an hour I probably won’t get to sleep later tonight. That’s how I am.

Anyway, while I was looking around for something to write about, I disconnected to NAS devices I’m not using anymore. Also, an external USB hard drive got moved so I could see what was on it (a 3 TeraByte drive that’s empty), and a monitor finally got socked away.

I work in the computer field but I’m sure I have more computer equipment than anyone I know. A lot of it is hard drives. So much so, that I built my own NAS and stocked it full of drives for the sole purpose of getting rid of the other two I just put in the closet.

Hopefully my electric bill will go down a bit. On the plus side, my big ugly shelf is now almost empty on top. I just need to do something with the wireless router and Ethernet switch.

Seriously. I could put a small business to shame with the junk I have here.

Maybe that’s why an iMac is so desirable to me? The idea of having one desk, with one computer on it, that’s barely noticable but for the monitor. Not this multi-computer, dual keyboard, dual mouse, three monitor extravaganza I have going on now.

One computer.


The mind wobbles.

What a shame, then, that I’m already planning on buying a new Wi-Fi router because I finally have a device that uses 802.11ac. And a 10GB switch because there’s a couple now below $13,000.00. That, of course, means buying two new 10GB network cards. Yes. Two. Seems kind of a waste for two computers, but, being single with no kids, I can afford to splurge. If I had friends I would buy LED flashing Ethernet cables just for the ‘Wow!’ Factor. “You actually paid money for these? Wow!”

I also want an iPad. I know not why. And to upgrade my computer to the new AMD Threadripper.

I know, I know, you don’t care about computer shit. I don’t blame you. I don’t either, except it’s all I got. If it wasn’t computers, I’d be buying high-end stereo equipment and insisting that “You really can tell the difference if you listen hard enough!” Or cars. I’d be spending thousand of dollars on… I don’t know. Cat back exhaust? Headers? Tail pipe tips?

I could probably make me and people who know me.a lot happier if I just spent it on hookers. Or, maybe, a plane ticket to Russia to meet some of those single ladies that want to come over to the US.

But I would hate to bring a smart, educated, beautiful woman thousands of miles across the ocean just so she could look at my networking equipment and say, “That’s it?”

That happens, right?


It appears I didn’t actually finish my last post. I got distracted by not going someplace and totally lost the thread. That happens, sometimes.

I left off at not buying an iMac and admitting that my excuse is now that I’m waiting to see what Apple announces later this year with the Mac Pro and, a remote possibility, something about new Minis.

Rather than explain everything, let me, instead, walk you through a typical purchase decision. Let’s say it’s for a new Widget and it costs $500.

The first thing to do is say, “Gosh! That new Widget is really fucking awesome! Boy, what I couldn’t do with one of those!” Then I start investigating into it more and read other impressions of the Widget.

“Let’s see,” I say to myself. “Seven thousand people think the Widget is really awesome. Six people think it’s garbage. Those six people must know something…” I trail off in my mind.

But I still kind of want that Widget. So I start talking about it at work. Constantly. “Hey! Did you see that new Widget? Is it the bee’s knees, or what?” I say. And my co-workers gently, but firmly, leave. Because they’ve been through this before, where I talk and talk and talk and talk and talk about buying something and then I never do. They’re married with kids and houses. They’re lucky if they can get away with buying a candy bar at the grocery store check out line. I have no wife, no girlfriend, no kids, and nothing that really costs me a lot so they wonder why I’m not walking around with gold teeth, hair extensions and driving a really nice car. So all this kind of annoys them.

For the record, I have a nice car. I love my car. My car is my penis extension. And nobody wants to see that either.

So, after everyone walks away I bring up my spreadsheet. Because I have a spreadsheet. It contains all the money that comes in and all the money that goes out. It’s got calculations, forecasts, graphs, running totals and Year To Date totals. And I stare at it. I stare at it wondering how that $500 will affect me in the coming months.

It won’t. Not a bit. Then I start thinking, “But what if I need that $500? What if there’s an emergency? What if I get fired tomorrow? What if…” I think of all the things that could possibly go wrong that will cost me so much that whatever $500 I spend will impact me so horribly that I’d rather kill myself than buy a Widget.

Eventually I get over it. I realize that it won’t affect my finances too much if I spend $500 once. Then I remember that I had to get the car fixed (the other one, not the good one that I love so much) one month and that cost way more than $500 and, look, here I was with another $500 to spend. Or Christmas presents for family that doesn’t care about me. Or this that and the other thing that cost about that much, if not more. So, yeah, I could spend it.

But do I really need it? No, I do not. I have a lot of other things that do the same job as a Widget. This is strictly a luxury Widget. Just something that would make me happy.

Make. Me. Happy.

Do I deserve to be happy? Maybe I don’t. Maybe I’m afraid to be happy? That’s kind of a weird thought.

Anyway, once I get to the happy part that’s when I finally decide to not buy whatever Widget is looking interesting.

Besides all this you may be wondering why I want an iMac at all. It’s mostly for the 5K screen. At the time, I was taking a lot of pictures and it would have been infinitely spiffy to be editing those photos on a giant 5K screen. These days, though, I don’t take a lot of pictures so it makes even less sense to get one.

Instead, maybe I’ll concentrate on not upgrading my Windows computer.



I’m not. Maybe I could have been. I don’t know. Many people wish they had time machines. I know I do. Actually, what would be better would be the ability to go back in time in my own body with my knowledge of the future intact. That is, go back to when I was about seven and be a seven year old but still have all the knows I have now. Like of English. It sure would make school easier. I could also fix all the stupid things that I’ve done that led me to this point in life. Alas, it is not be.

The other thing I would like to have is an alternate Earth machine. I’d like to slide to all the alternate dimensions of Earth and see what was different in each one. Like the show Sliders, except controllable. What would the world be like today if Atari hadn’t been mismanaged so badly by everyone? Who knows?

I’m writing twice today because I have nothing better to do. That’s a lie. I have a lot of things I need to do, I just didn’t feel like doing them. Being an adult, I can say things that like. Take out the garbage? I don’t feel like it. Wash the dishes? I would, but I really don’t feel like it. I should take a shower, except I don’t feel like it. And there isn’t anyone to know the difference because I am alone.

Since I had four days off again (for the third time in the space of 30 days which would normally seem pretty cool, except it’s only just screwed up my sleep/wake pattern. Indeed, having two days off work so many times has just made it even more difficult to do what I want to do because I’m so tired I need the rest so by the time I feel like doing something, I’m on my way to work). Oh my God, that long parenthetical derailed my train of thought.

Oh, right. What I should have done was grabbed the camera and gone off to one of the towns I’ve been meaning to go to. I like taking pictures of small towns. I think they’re neat. I wish I could move to a small town that had a restaurant and a bar and where my house was close enough I could walk there. I would never cook dinner and I would seriously try to get drunk at least one night a week. I’d be around people, presumably. Hopefully people who wouldn’t want to hit me on the back of the head and leave me in a ditch.

I also should have done some editing on my two remaining stories for my other blog. Maybe it would be nice to put some effort into them for a change, rather than just dumping them out and letting them loose on the world. The three people that read it might appreciate that. On the other hand, those three people rarely understand what I’m trying to accomplish, anyway, so maybe they wouldn’t.

What does any of this have to do with being famous? Not a lot. I could have played football for my high school. Maybe it would have been a way for me to get into college. Maybe I could have gone pro and made some money before my knees gave out. I could have been having sex all the time until meeting someone to settle down with in my mansion paid for by Japanese soap commercials.

Maybe I could have really buckled down, gone to college, and started writing. Really writing. With, like, a circle of like-minded friends who would be a kind of inspiration or competition environment. Maybe I could have written a best selling book about a boy who turns out to be the most powerful wizard ever and then had movie deals out the ass and be a multi-billionaire heroically funding the exotic car market.

Perhaps I could have gotten into photography earlier and had started taking pictures of models and having sex with them and then getting all pissy because I’m an artist, damn it! Everything I do is art! Soup cans my ass! Let’s go to a rave!

I’m not any of those things. Hell, I can’t even work up the energy to be a kind of lovable villain who commits crimes and the public loves them. I’m just a sad old fart writing an incognito blog. I don’t even have a Patreon account.

Maybe I should find something serious to write about. Something that people might actually look at when they’d like to know something. But what?


I’ve got this weird problem. I feel guilty for things that other people (as far as I understand it) don’t.

For example, I finally had an opportunity to spend my weekend without having to do anything. No errands to run, no place I had to be, just nothing to do. Sure, there’s always something I could be doing around the homestead, but there was nothing pressing.

So I played a computer game. For two days. And I feel bad about it. I couldn’t tell you why, though. I feel like I should have been doing something productive, not playing a game. So I feel guilty. I know other people who wouldn’t feel guilty. They’d be elated. They would label themselves, “gamers.”

If I take a sick day I feel guilty for doing anything other than laying in bed. Resting. I don’t answer to anyone but myself. You’d think I’d be worried about my dad showing up and berating me for watching TV while I’m sick. That’s all me, though. Weird.

It’s like I’m not used to doing anything for myself. That is completelyl true, by the way. I’m not. It’s been nearly a decade since I was required to be helpful and do things for people, but here I am feeling useless if I’m not doing something for somebody.

Sad, isn’t it?