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I’ve never been one to think the universe sends me messages — among other reasons, I’ve moved a few times and never left it my forwarding address.* But late this afternoon, a message may have been received as Muriel and I headed outside at the usual time so she could do her business. It was […]

11.22.24: From the utility trucks that kept disrupting my sleep last night to the half-hour I just wasted clumsily trying to close a tiny utility knife I’ve owned for several years, this was a day that seemed designed for maximum frustration. Once the knife was at long last closed — not because it needed to

One of the reasons I agreed to try trekking poles for better balance is my unsteadiness outdoors with Muriel. She has an indefatigable prey drive and troubling tendency to tune me out at the sight of anything she might kill (and eat) with impunity — if afforded the opportunity. This unruliness is especially problematic in

When I decided to stray from my comfort zone and filed an SSDI claim this spring, I knew it would be an uphill battle. Approval rates are low, particularly for those of us who are decades away from a traditional retirement age, and the application and appeals processes can be difficult and even dehumanizing. While

No, I’ve not actually gone fishing, but I’m taking the night off (or rather, I’d planned to; as you’ll see, that went by the wayside) and wanted to offer some sort of proof of life after yesterday’s coughfest. I’ll return tomorrow with the tale of my shiny new SSDI denial and why I’m still conflicted

While Crankenstein was at church this morning singing non-Terry-Meeuwsen songs about Jesus, I was annoying Muriel with the return of a hacking cough that’s worse now than it was when I had Covid earlier this month. Exasperated, I decided to distract myself not through writing, which requires greater concentration than coughing fits allow, but with

There was a minor family crisis today that consumed the time I’d planned to spend writing and watching Carlos Alcaraz and Rafael Nadal play doubles together at the Olympics. If Crankenstein attends church tomorrow as planned, I should have a couple free hours to throw something together. Fortunately, my sibling is fine. Unfortunately, this has

After hitting ‘publish’ on last night’s post, I tucked Muriel in — ours is a well-oiled routine by now, from the four things I always tell her at bedtime to the way she rolls over and sleepily raises her front paws to encourage a few more chest rubs — and went upstairs to prepare for

For the second night in a row I’m fuzzy-headed and slightly peevish and probably not the best company. I’ll try harder tomorrow, but just did us all a favor by deleting a rant about a vice-presidential candidate whose Wikipedia page will eventually include a section called “Allegations of Couch-F*cking.”* Most of today’s irritations were medical

I thought about not posting tonight rather than feigning cheer, and then I remembered my user name here is ‘Cranky’ and, with a sigh, started typing. It wasn’t a bad day, just a long one again spent catching up on things that were disrupted by illness earlier this month. By the time Crankenstein got home