The Serein Room

Feeling peaceful this early evening. I have a heavy hand when typing, and often linger on a key to hit it twice. Then again, I have to use the mouse on this laptop differently to get something to move, striking harder and in different areas.

This afternoon I got outside briefly. The sun happened to be shining, and the breeze was a little too chilly for wearing a sweater. First I took trash out, and then some boxes since the recycling dumpster had been emptied. The residents share it with the businesses in the basement and on the ground floor, so the timing has to be right to find it not overflowing.

I used the handicap elevator; thank goodness it was working. I struggled with the boxes, trying to make just one trip. Some contractors ripping out old carpet in the apartment next to mine helped me onto the elevator. They were brown skinned and speaking a foreign language, and first checked me out to see if I would behave as mean as I look maybe. Outside, one of the long, skinny boxes fell out, the one that my new cane arrived in. The Amazon driver rescued me with that one. I’m old enough now that people call me “dear”, which amuses me. I had such a struggle to survive that I never really had the bandwidth to plan or visualize my life at this point.

The food box from Misfits arrived today. The Fed-Ex driver had to carry it up to the fifth floor, or maybe he used a dolly, because of the “exciting upgrades” to the main elevator. He looks like a weight lifter, so I don’t feel too bad. Fed-Ex shows a photo of the drivers sometimes in their delivery updates, and I’ve noticed him when sitting outside on the bench.

The new wallpaper in the elevator looks good – some sort of teal and gold peacock looking print. The bottom half and baseboards are unfinished wood at this point. I’m not sure if there will be further work done. The elevator is so unusually small that people moving in and out tend to mar the walls of the elevator. And last week, when the old paneling had been ripped out, leaving unfinished walls, someone had drawn a penis. It was fairly high up, so likely the artist was someone that might be expected to be more mature.

I had energy enough to put the food away, and wash the Tuscan kale, collard greens, ginger, and delicata squash. I listed the items, plus some pantry items in ChatGpt and it gave me five more recipes that look easy enough, and better than I could come up with myself.

I’m not worried about my brain rotting getting this help. I’ve had untreated concussions, heavy metals, MSG, chemical exposure, and my executive function isn’t on board most of the time. I’ve done well enough taking responsibility for myself, and researching information as best I can.

I’m realizing how much I’m in functional freeze, even after the year and a half of somatic practice. The symptoms sound similar to what is described by retirees in the comments of videos on aging, how they lose momentum, want to stop moving, and find it hard to get things done. I tend to believe a human content creator in the videos more so than statistics. Many of the seniors likely have more damage from the culture we live in than they realize.

Anyway, I’m mainly interested in taking steps to address this. If I have a decade of life left, I want to make the best of it.

I have some suggestions from AI for each week of my 30 day Reset in November. I’ve structured many little programs like this for myself in the past, and when I do about 20% of them, that’s awesome.

I’m also planning a modified economic blackout for November and December. I will have to buy food and necessities, and I want to send a food box to my brother before his surgery.

I like typing here, and that when I repeat myself it’s no big deal.

Oh, my God. I just wandered off my intent to stop consuming media for awhile, read a Substack piece trashing boomers, read the comments, and saw a profile icon of a swastika, with a hateful comment. I don't want to live on their timeline.