For you, the dress code is casual.

Monday, April 21, 2008

Fuck you, Fate,
and the mean horse you rode in on

Bah! Some Mondays suck.

Having an old friend die on the weekend was a heady trip and I'm still kind of morose about it, but I haven't seen the guy in several years, so it's not hitting me like it will some others, particularly my dear buddy. The guy was a new dad, which is just horribly tragic. Like, 10-day-old new dad.

It's the original "WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING" rage one can throw at the universe for taking THIS guy out at this time. Like, what the fuck good comes of a 10-day-old baby never again seeing his daddy?

That's when you have to say some deaths truly are senseless. This one's at the top of that list. Fucking wrong.

Fuck, man. But it gives me other pause. The guy was out riding on his new quad bike when it washed down a river near Squamish. He "washed up" the next morning. There's a reason they call them accidents. None of us ever plan for this shit to happen.

When I woke up all hung over, arguably even still a little drunk, after a concert in '04 and went riding with my friends that morning, I didn't think I'd get a head injury that'd change me forever or nearly fucking die. Yesterday, for instance, I took a large wooden box down to the basement, down four flights of stairs, and lost my footing on a flight-- and totally had this vision play of how my broken neck would've looked had I not fluked and regained my footing at the last second. That wood box would've totally broken my neck had I face-planted.

Incredibly stupid fragments of seconds are what separate our lives from our deaths. A moment we wish we could have back leads us to injuries, broken hearts, and everything else we endure in life. Just little moments. Harmless seconds.

All that had to happen to this friend of mine was one rock in the river slipping under his tires too quickly with just the right gush of current. That's it. A moment. A convergence of convenience. Then, whoops! And death. It fucking boggles the mind.

I'm pretty angry about the injustice of this guy dying. I just can't get my head off his little baby. I'm so angry. Poor fucking child. The kicker is, this guy's mom and dad have both died in recent years, so all of a sudden there's no one left on his side. All that remains is this baby.

And his Facebook page is still there, which is just so fucking odd. It's my first post-Facebook death. Is this what we face for the future? When people do die, their digital fingerprints will be everywhere still? A legacy, yet not?

I tell you one thing, I really don't fucking want to work today. No, sir, I do not. That's the weird like/hate thing about my job: When things ARE all fucked up and I'm riding a bad head trip, I sit there with headphones watching tv, which can mean spiralling deeper into some thoughts that are maybe better left lightly experienced, and not fully delved into. It can cause a mighty deep funk.

BUT... if it's a fun show that requires my creativity, it can alleviate everything and get me out of it, too. Strange. I guess everyone's jobs can be great or bad, depending on the day. Mine just gets weird.

However... I relish the fact that I don't need to think about anything other than what is before me, nor do I need to talk to clients, or, really, my colleagues.Just a polite nod will do.

And... I have leftover butter chicken for lunch. (Kitchens of India brand, made at home-- ridiculously low in fat compared to what you might think, especially if you stick to adding water like they suggest and avoid the temptation to add cream or coconut milk.) That, at least, elevates my Monday to "almost Tuesday" status. Wow.

Gotta say, though. There aren't many things that make me pray in life, but that baby got a prayer from me yesterday. Breaks my fucking heart. What a cruel start to life, and what a great guy for that baby to go a lifetime never knowing.

Some things really do serve well to embitter us. I can't begin to explain how this one fits the bill beyond what I've already tried to clumsily put to words here.