Introducing: The Adventures of Meth Lab Mike

Chapter One: The Final Adventure!

This concludes the adventures of Meth Lab Mike.

I fucking hope.

V is for Veil

I was talking to the Eloquent Potter about issues of the mind and revealed to him one of my rather unpopular understandings which I rarely reveal: That the human race is deeply insane. And that the term "human nature" is largely a construct of flattery. It's a category of mental illnesses which are so ubiquitous we label them as something "normal" so as to preserve our illusion of collective sanity.

"Well of course," he replied. He then explained that the origin of the word nature fit with that entirely. Someone who was severely mentally handicapped was said to be "natural."

U is for Unappetizing

The last two times I purchased the pre-made panini sandwiches at Metro grocery store the bread was stale, hard, unenjoyable. Useless. The last three times I purchased the prepared roasted pork loin with rosemary they were overcooked, tough as hell, dry as a bone, practically inedible.

Yeah I know; maybe I should cook for myself. Well things are tough at our house right now and using the wreckage that was once a kitchen is not an option. I'm working on a kitchenette deal down in my lair but meanwhile...

I'm not one to complain to vendors but I'm starting to resolve to change all that. I feel like there is a disease in our society where we use our absurd privileges and wealth, not to produce greater quality but to assemble systems to fuck each other over for profit. And the result is less quality. And I feel sometimes like we allow this because we're so fucking artificial we're satisfied with the appearance of quality. Like the transactions alone are enough for us. It seems like as long as we can stick our experience on facebook (the eye of the other) it doesn't matter if the experience was solid.

I've been watching too much Kitchen Nightmares with the dual hero/anti-hero Gordon Ramsay. Every time I eat now I want to say "This is disgusting! You're not even trying! You don't even care!! You've lost your passion!!"

Oh well.

T is for Thigh

In the last couple months there have been a few brief occasions where my right thigh goes on vacation. It just seems to disengage; almost like a partially separated shoulder but really not very painful at all. It usually happens right after standing up and if I’ve already walked a stride or two it threatens to make me fall down. So far I have been lucky and had things to grab on to.

A few days ago I had several attacks the same day and they each lasted for ten to twenty minutes.

And then… Friday night on the night shift: It went on me again, this time lasting for six and a half hours. I could not leave my chair in that time. Had I needed the washroom I’d have had to roll there on my wheeled desk chair.

After five hours of this I sent an email to my bosses and the director of operations and the H.R. manager. I told them that it looked like the end of the road for me with this client. It has been a couple month since declining mobility hasn’t made my work weekends an awkward and sometimes painful ordeal.

Maybe they can offer me a different less-mobile assignment, once my leg problem is resolved. I think it may be a nerve damage or pinched nerve issue.

I’m aware I might end up on disability. I do not want this, of course, but my seven day shifts per month at the social assistance office, through new employer Poseidon Security, does not yield enough income to get by on.

Big changes may be coming. 

S is for Support

The Flaming Liberal has had a very rough go of things. Diabetes has crippled him, temporarily we believe, and knocked him out of the workforce. Christmas morning we went to the street mission for their holiday breakfast.

Pancakes with real butter and real Aunt Jemima’s Syrup, real bacon, sausages, eggs and yogurt. I think there was more but I had topped out at that point. The food was plentiful and surprisingly excellent; of better quality, quite frankly than the breakfast offerings of many Hamilton restaurants, many of which have very little business being in business.

The staff and volunteers were so sweet and gregarious and adept at meeting such a motley crew of marginalized benefactors at whatever mental landscapes they each presented; some certainly more difficult than others.

I could imagine myself among their ranks. It would be challenging. I don’t know if my physical limitations would rule me out. Certainly I am overextended enough as it is. I shouldn’t even be thinking about it.

R is for Restaurant

Here’s one of my Christmas gifts to my folks this year. I love giving these. They’re creative - though this one is on the simple side. And I get something out of it too!

As for the recipients they can’t lose. They get a free meal and they also get to watch me eat. It’s like dinner and a show.

Q is for Quest

From my late teens until the current decade I was strongly motivated by instinctive desires. Overlapping that in the new millennium I was strongly motivated by very noble desires.

And now, for the first time, basically, in memory, there are no strong motivations in me. And I strongly feel that vacancy. How do I take less compelling goals and make them feel urgent enough to motivate me?

One such goal is to become travel-ready. That means weight loss. The Eloquent Potter is off now to Cambodia and Vietnam on his own five-month quest. We both need to find ourselves in various manners of speaking. I fully expect he will move there permanently before long. I will want to visit him there. The idea of a more natural environment and a language gap are so very appealing these days. And I will want to visit India. I may require a long break from this society as a last-ditch effort to maybe learn to love it again. Absence makes the heart grow fonder. I have a lot of contempt to get over.