Dirty Broken Down Old Man

 

I have just got the meanest spiritual yellow jacket hornet up my arse and I honestly dunno what to do about it. It truly is the damnedest thing. A strange funk has settled on me since the passing of my father in law back before Christmas. I dunno what it was that triggered this, and only a vague sense of what to do about it. It’s the kind of funk that’s infected the way I think about everything. It settled down around my shoulders so softly at first that I didn’t even notice it. But now it bears down on me and makes me chafe. I have the good ol’ winter blahs but it’s oddly different this time.

Back before I became nonessential and I worked for a living I used to dream of retirement. I’d go downstairs and live in the Reclusium and the world could kiss my ass and go to hell with my compliments. I had REAL things that mattered - the guns, the camping, the bow, the planes and leather work… the dogs… I figured I’d have to retire twice just to make extra time to use on all my hobbies.

But…something changed this year. I did, I guess. It’s kinda like I’m a young man in his late teens or early 20s looking at the toys of his childhood. Imagine it: the comic books, the action figures, the ball glove, the BB gun, the hockey pucks and bubblegum cards… I feel like I’ve outgrown the stuff in the Reclusium the same way the young man outgrew the toys of his childhood. It leaves me lethargic and out of sorts. What am I supposed to do with myself?

I’ve fallen way behind on my reloading… good grief, there has to be 350 ~ 400 rounds there I gotta reload. No prob, right? Aw jeez… I gotta catch up on my bullet casting because I fell behind on that too! The Reclusium looks like a bomb went off, the dirty bird airplane needs to be completed… there was a time my little shop was cleaner than a green bean Marine’s M16… and I’d be running the Dirty Bird off skis by now I’m falling apart!!! 

I don’t even want to open up the news on the internet anymore. Our idiot prime minister has gone into hiding because the big bad truckers are laughing at him and blowing their air horns. Our conservatives have a golden opportunity to shitcan these idiot Covid mandates and the liberal morons that imposed them… and so far every single one of those faggots have gone quiet and timid as church mice. They’d probably like to go into hiding too, those spineless curs. Fuck ‘em all, I say - and pardon my fwench.

I need to get away. I need to shake off this bloody funk, turn off the noise for a bit, and blow some dust off. As soon as the weather lifts I am going out for an overnighter. I need to escape the madness, blow some dust off… and get back in the game with my head on straight. Hanging on to your sanity in Canada these days can be a damned tough proposition at times.

Maybe I should go get some psychological life counseling from Quartermain. 

I hear he takes cheques.