Is it just hype? Holler? Or is it what one CEO called “Fire”? Has it vanquished every last flicker of relevancy for creative human work? I’m missing it because I have to. End of day too much new has happened for me to keep up. Or so it seems. Excuses.
Would I want my consciousness uploaded to an AI bot for training purposes? I talked about very concept some years ago. Open source identity, or at least the ability to live forever without cumbersome bother of the body. All those appendages demanding attention.
I have to see a foot doctor for what is, surprisingly, the first time ever. For all the walking I’ve done you’d think my bones would have turned to kindling by now. In fact I think something has become dislocated. Some days it hurts bad, other days not at all. I don’t know where the discrepencies come from, or why it’s so bad at one moment and perfectly fine the next.
I feel fine today. Well rested, well fed last night with a big blob of shit that is so bad it’s good. One of those Oncor beef slab concoctions I could eat forever, until forever arrives and I’m like, that shit’s nasty. I wake up and see what’s left of it on the table, the blobs of fat highlighted in the morning sun. You’d think these beef blobs would just get up and take things into their own hands.
Beef blobs. I remember now: Salisbury Steaks. 6 slabs of the shit, with gravy, and no bullshit sides like mashed potatoes or a fucking brownie, like one of the other frozen food brands inexplicably forces into the mix. Who needs a caffeine-riddled brownie with dinner?
I find that I’ve priced myself out of the grocery store. To buy cold cuts, bread, cheese, mayo and mustard for the purpose of making sandwiches at home ends up costing the same as just buying deli made creations, which are probably better made anyway. Two containers of cold cuts, I forget the brand, came out to $20. They have enough meat in them to make about 2-1/2 sandwiches. These cheese packages are $3.50. The loaf of bread is $5. The mayo was on sale for $6.99. The time spent making these sandwiches, making room for them in my bag, transporting them, etc.; these are intangible expenses but that doesn’t make them irreal. Bottom line is that store bought sandwiches make as much financial sense as making them myself, a task I’d taken on with the belief that it had to be saving me money.
I don’t buy the deli-cut pay-by-weight cold cuts or cheese any more. They’re too messy and they go bad too quickly. The cheese from the deli get mold a little too quickly for my pace. They are also pretty expensive, with one deli in Astoria charging $14.99 a pound for what I think was spicy turkey.
I should learn to subsist on rice and beans. Isn’t that what two-thirds of the world eats? Truth is I’ve never been a fan of food. I find it bothersome, and the cults built around it are ludicrous. Eating is an act we perform to stay alive. Glorifying it as a statement of class, or presitge… I mean why not do the same for how we shit and piss? It’s as necessary an act as eating but we do it in shame, and seclusion.
What am I rambling vapidly about? I am at the counter, eating strawberries with water, ripping off the leafy pieces because I think they make me need to poop very suddenly. The entire strawberry is said to be edible but I don’t like the leaves. So my one pound container, emptied of the strawberries, ends up a pile of leaves.
Just for the hell of it I scanned a couple of receipts into a Microsoft Bing app. Apparently if you do it long enough you might win $50. More likely, though, you will earn one cent for each receipt, an amount I do not think compensates for even the cost of the flashbulb used to take the picture, or the electrical juice used to take the picture. Not to mention the time. It rejects the receipt if it cannot read the store name, amount due, and total (I think). I hgave it a receipt where the store name was as clear as could be, but Bing couldn’t see it. So that was time wasted. Even if it did recognize the store name it would have been time wasted because that time spent scanning the receipt is worth more than one fucking penny.
I slept aggressively. Lots of movement, flailing, and sprawling. I had buried myself under sheets and blankets but before long I had kicked all of them off, leaving me grasping for cover wherever I could find it. I remembered the woman who used to laugh about it, waking up with a play-by-play account of all the acrobatic moves I made through the night. She’d compare her style sleep, which was basically lie there grinning, hands clasped, just sleep sleep sleep. While I randomly would grab her face or climb on top of her, then scramble to the other side of the bed, nearly falling to the floor. There was a period where I snored like a freight train but somehow that stopped. Normally I snore pretty hard at first but as sleep deepens it becomes inaudible. I frequently scream in my sleep but do not always wake up because of it. It’s more like a bark. Yeah, I’m a pain in the ass to sleep with. I consider myself good at everything else but the actual sleeping part is not natural for me, and it never was. I do not believe humans were intended to sleep in the same bed. DOing so is a cultural relic of the industrial revolution, when m oving to cities required efficiencies of space.
