Good morning, friend. How are you? I hope you are doing okay. I myself got eight and a half hours of sleep, raw dogging it, no nyquil, no booze, no edibles. Felt great. Peed forever when I woke up. Tried to take my blood pressure for this ten-day run of home blood pressure tests. No battery in the cuff. Checks out. Haven’t used it in years.

I would like to say that this vast amount of “healthy” sleep is making me feel better today, but the jury’s still out on that one.

Rough day yesterday. The exhaustion and the shoulder pain and the forever neck pain all gelled in that delicious combination to deliver a nice dose of existential depression, manifesting in the cris de cour of “not this shit again” about, well, everything.

My computer keeps crashing and restarting every morning this week because of:

panic(cpu 0 caller 0xfffffe003d6fc22c): "skr.ustats.stats-2.IMTransferAgent.1531": skr 0x0xfffffe18814b6a00 sg 0x0xfffffe1d46fd4278 (idx 0) unable to satisfy mandatory allocation

IMTransfer agent seems to be part of iMessage, which I am not using, because Android.

Not this shit again.

Need my help writing something? Not this shit again.

Have a perfectly reasonable work request? Not this shit again.

Gotta go to gymnastics? Not this shit again.

Fruit not merging properly? Not this shit again.

My friend texts me about his efforts getting an imprisoned journalist released and all I think is “another text? Not this shit again.”

My life is fine, my life is great, my daughter is awesome, my wife is awesome.

Not this shit again.

Right now there is a bird very confused about my window, banging into it like it’s GG Allin or something. Not this shit again.

No sale on Zevia? Not this shit again. It’ll probably be fucking next week when I am out of town. Not this shit again.

(Never mind my trip next week is awesome and I am very excited for it).

Depression is such bullshit.

I do have some good news for you, though:

The honey I recently bought has an expiration date of 2030. THAT is LEGIT.

Join the GMHHAY slack! Reply to this email and ask for an invite if you’re a human who likes chatting with other humans about topics such as these within!

I am listening to a beautiful, absolutely beautiful haunting ambient album by an artist named Ana Roxanne. It is called Because of a Flower. It is gorgeous. I love it. Has a real Virginia Astley vibe. I don’t know anything about Ana Roxanne. Can’t remember why this is in my playlist, Apple Music doesn’t tell me how long ago I put it in there. Wait does it? Oh shit. Command-J. You can add columns. Well, that’s one thing Apple Music has over Spotify. Except the “Date Added” column is blank. Oh well.

Let’s Google Kagi Ana Roxanne.

(And no, still not using Google search. You can do it too! It’s easy!)

This album is six years old. She is Filipino. Has freckles. From Vallejo in the Bay Area. Homeschooled. Catholic. Pitchfork gave this album an 8/10 six years ago. OH. It’s on Kranky. Okay. That’s how I found it. Great record label, Kranky. Well, shit yeah. Ana Roxanne. I am a fan.

Tricky is putting out a new album. As Tricky. Apparently he puts out lots of albums not as Tricky? Which I did not know, so I will have to investigate. BUT ALSO, apparently his manager these days is… Alan McGee? Founder of Creation Records? The man who signed Oasis, Primal Scream, the Jesus and Mary Chain? WTF I thought that dude retired and went into politics or something. Alan McGee is managing Tricky? I don’t know what’s happening in the world anymore.

Not this shit again.

Speaking of England this tobacco ban is insane. They are permanently banning anyone born after 2009 or something from ever buying tobacco in their entire lives. Or nicotine. I am not sure if vapes and lozenges are included but I think so? I am not saying this is a bad law, I’m sort of undecided on that but… damn. Bold. I kinda gotta applaud it. Even if maybe I hate it. But maybe I like it. I don’t fucking know, man.

Was watching videos with my daughter, a chess game, and the guy had to say the word “Pawn” as “poun” because Youtube thought that he was saying “porn” with his English accent. And then I watched this (clothed, normal) interview with a pornstar and they muted out every time they said the word “porn” or “anal” or any one of like a dozen other words, presumably for SEO/Youtube demonetization reasons (though it was not explained) and the video was nigh-on unwatchable and I gave up on it, but not after I noticed they also had a bunch of euphamisms for stuff, like Back Door and whatnot. And then of course we have the whole worlds of suicide and the pro-ana community on the internet, who say things like, well, pro-ana, and “unalive” and… man. Language sure is evolving.

Where are the linguistic professors on this issue? Please tell me people are writing long scholarly papers about the word “gooning” and the use of “unalive” online and going to conferences and presenting these papers, because I want to live a life where I travel and visit these conferences and sit there and listen to their presentations like boomer moms go to community colleges to learn decoupage or something.

That is what I want to do with my life. Go to academic conferences and trade shows for fields of industry and study about which I know nothing. Maybe my daughter will tag along. Maybe I’ll get wrapped up in some drama at Outdoor Retailer or World of Concrete or the Linguistics Society Annual Meeting at the Marriot Marquis in San Francisco January 6-9, 2027.

But instead I gotta work a fucking job.

Not this shit again.

My man boobs are sweating it’s too goddamn sultry in here.

Not this shit again.

Reader, I just spent five minutes staring at the screen trying to decide if I should put a link on “It’s too goddamn sultry in here.”

This morning on the way to school Jane asked:

“Daddy. Why do you wear band t-shirts all the time?”

“Well, I don’t wear them all the time. Today I am wearing a record label shirt.”

“Okay but still.”

“Yeah. You are right. Well. I wear them because I like supporting artists. It is hard to be an artist and make a living. You make money from shows, selling your art, and merch like shirts. And I want to help them out. Because I respect that they are making a living doing their art. I’m a bit jealous of it.”

“That is a nice thing to do. Maybe more people should do that.”

“I think so.”

NOW. I do want to say that since I am fucked, and I do not make my living off of my art, I can indulge in my neurosis and not bother doing any self-promotion, stay off of Twitter and Substack, not run ads, not write op-eds and stupid think pieces. It is very nice. I should try and remember all the benefits of having a real job and not an art job.

I still think I maybe made a mistake on that front.

But at least there are a few benefits.

Buy my book, or not. I’m not gonna put a link. You can Google it. My paycheck will be the same either way.

I had a dream last night that Jussi and I were in France, a shitty, dirty neighborhood of Paris and she was a swinger and kept going out and hooking up with old friends from her “summer in France” in college and I basically just stayed home and read.

Definitely not a metaphor for being a parent in the suburbs instead of a cool city chick. Not at all.

Modern Synthpop playlist for you today. Thank you, Nicky, for introducing me to Fcukers. I am enjoying them. Kinda wish I went and saw Water From Your Eyes open for Hailey whats-her-name last month in Boston but I could not make that work. I am very into Charli xcx’s Wuthering Heights soundtrack even if no one else seems to be and I guess I will probably watch that movie one of these days? Maybe? Probably? I should probably watch something else than re-watching The Leftovers which has absolutely no joy or humor at any time! Not healthy! Not this shit again!