Ketchup

Time for some catch up letting y'all know what's been up in my world. 2016 had been a mixed bag so far. It started out positively, aggressively even. But then, as things do, it sorta fell to shit. I'm still tryna keep a positive outlook, but it's been challenging at times.

For one, I've had The Consumption that's been sweeping America this winter. That shit settled in the day after Christmas and hasn't ever really left. Of course, my health strategy of "drink away a cold/smoke away a flu" hasn't panned out as well as I thought.

Speaking of Christmas, did I tell you The Wife bought me a Squatty Potty™ for Christmas this year? For those of you who have no idea what I'm talking about, apparently Westerners have been pooping incorrectly for centuries, as is illustrated in the disgusting diagram of your poopshoot below.

So yeah, we sit upright and that's a cardinal sin in the realm of deuce-dropping, so this company invented a little stool that you prop your feet up while visiting Charlie and His Chocolate Factory, and it's supposed to open up your pooper and let everything just fly right on outta there. And when my friends and I first heard of this miracle invention, we went to Amazon to read the reviews, which are priceless. But what intrigued me most were the reviews that said things like "wiping is a thing of the past with the Squatty Potty!!" If there's anything I find utterly tedious, disgusting, and time-consuming, it's wiping my ass. Now you're telling me that someone has invented a device that means I never have to wipe again, and it's only $40?! Where do I sign up?!"

And then their amazing commercial came out, and I don't need to tell you that I was fully sold.

But, as with so many things in life, reality was more disappointing than the dream. I won't go so far as to say the Squatty Potty™ is the sea monkey of the 21st century, but I will say that the no-wiping claims are vastly overstated. In fact, it seems to have made it worse somehow. And it's clunky, and we have a small bathroom, making it easy for someone to trip over it.

On the other hand, The Wife also completed the Poo Package by getting me this, and it is miraculous. I haven't smelled The Wife's craps since Christmas morning, and it's been glorious. A real marriage-saver, take my word for it.

Speaking of The Wife, we have not had a banner 2016 as a couple either. We see a couples' counselor every other week, which we started doing back in 2014 when we were just gritting our teeth at one another, waiting to see who would say The D Word first. We love our shrink, in his little cardigans. And we mostly have worked through the issues that brought us there in the first place, but just when we think we're gonna take Couple of the Year, something else happens, and there we are again, sitting on his couch, calling each other vicious names, and pushing each other's buttons right and left.

So we're kinda in the shit right now, and we need to make some drastic changes in a number of areas of our lives. But we are our own worst enemies, alike in the ways that make us both look at these sweeping changes and say "Ugh, too hard. Let's have a drink instead." It makes it a little Days of Wine and Roses up in here though. I don't mean to be vague. If it were just about me, you know I'd >gobble gobble< get all up into it, but I have another person's privacy to respect. 

So there's that.

What else can I tell you besides pooping and marital discord stories? I am still jobless. I haven't been trying, but one thing that has become crystal clear in the course of all of this screaming during counseling is that The Wife is ready for me to start Earning My Keep again. My two long-term(ish) prospects both fell through. One for reasons unknown (she seemed ready to hire me on the spot, but I fear my rate might have been too high) and the other because I'm pretty sure the guy who wanted to hire me was a cokehead, and now he's on probation at his job and can't greenlight any new projects. Freelancing means being at the whim of other people's shit.

Anyway, I know it's stressing The Wife out, and it's not that I don't care that I'm worrying her, but I've still been contributing to the household finances (however meagerly), and I just don't fucking want to yet. I mean, 10-15 hours of work a week would be cool, but I'm just not ready to do The Corporate Thing again. But the one thing I will concede is that I need to Get Out There, as in, the world, life, etc. I need to start trying all kinds of crazy shit since I'm in this time where I'm supposed to be "finding my passion." Hard to find my passion when I'm being reclusive AF.

Oh and I came out this morning to find my driver's side front window smashed. They didn't even try to break into the car; they just simply caused $170 worth of damage to my car for the fuck of it. I saw some other piles of shattered window glass (called "Oakland diamonds" in these parts), so it was clearly just some destructive assface wreaking havoc. Fucking people.

To the human fucktard who did this: I hope, as you're walking down the street today,
you step in a homeless man's feces. And that he ate corn last night.

Other than that, I got nothing. Poop, marriage, general thuggery. That's about what's happening with me these days. Whatchoo got?