I think it moved.

Today was a good day.  I got so much done, but I’m having a hard time exiting hyper mode.  I’m rocking in my recliner as I type this, and it’s helping.  My new TV arrived from MassDrop two weeks earlier than estimated.  It’s amazing (now that I’ve calibrated it.)  I booked a 3-day hiking trip in Colorado for my vacation.  I can’t wait!  I love Colorado.  (I’m just not ready to move.)  I don’t stress over it anymore.  I know where I live doesn’t matter.  Only how I live.

I discovered I did a lousy job setting up my drum kit.  I’ve never owned an acoustic kit.  In fact, I only know one person who will even let me touch their setup.  He’s a rock star without a band.  He can sing, play drums, and play lead guitar.  He looks like a cross between John Cougar Mellencamp and Justin Beiber, (gorgeous).  He’s married with two kids, so he doesn’t get to jam very often.  I wrestled the rack until I got the boom arms out of the tubes and extended them like a drummer who knows what the fuck they’re doing.  It made positioning the cymbals and hi-hat so much easier.  This could all have been prevented by including instructions.  Just saying.

I don’t mind learning by trial and error, but I’m practically a walking bruise right now.  My arms and legs are covered in them.  I can’t remember the last time I had this many at the same time.  I’m sporting leopard skin this week.  I saw someone called out for misusing the word comfort on Twitter.  My stomach sank as I grasped how much of an asshole I am for using the same word and context in a previous post.  It was insensitive to people with chronic pain as well as other conditions.  I didn’t think it through sufficiently.  I regret it.  If I made anyone feel like shit, I’m so sorry.

I have to think about it more.  I don’t delete past posts where I make an utter fool of myself, put my foot in my mouth, or show off my ignorance.  My ego doesn’t like this policy, but I leave them because as much as it hurts to remember, it also reminds me I’m growing and becoming a better person than I was yesterday.  I’m off to continue reading The Witching Hour by Ann Rice.

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