The Sh*t List, Fart #1

I make a lot of jokes. People say I inspire them because I am still jovial despite my situation. Being funny is nice, inspiring people is also nice. Truthfully, living with a brain injury is not nice. This blog will be my pity party and shit list all rolled into one. I was really going to try not to make light, but the way I like to combine words has inexorably led me to tell you that this entry could also be called the “shit party”.
We’ll get this party started shortly – there will be shit everywhere, I promise. Before we commence, I must tell you that I will NOT pull punches. If you think that I’m talking about you – get over it, and while you’re at it get over yourself. Also, I’ve decided that I can’t stifle my need to make jokes. I’m not very good at being angry, but I’m pretty good at making with the funny, so I’ll use that to bolster my angst. Here goes:
1.I hate how I CONSTANTLY think about trying to walk normally or that I should be using my left hand. I could be thinking about something fun to do with my daughter or how to increase the life of a lightbulb, but I devote most of my immediate thought to making my left hamstring work so my left leg won’t snap forward – it doesn’t work, I’ve been like this for three years now. The only thing that has really changed is my thinking that if I focus on it it’ll improve. More on this later, I’m going to use the topic at hand to segue into…
2. I HATE HATE HATE it when people tell me to be patient. Here’s the difference between patience for someone like me vs. everyone else. Everyone else orders something from Amazon, it comes in three days later and they complain about how it took forever. Someone like me put that same order in three years ago and we’re still waiting. While we’re on the subject of the stupid things people do/say…
3. I can’t stand it when people say “everything happens for a reason” or “it’s all part of God’s plan”. I’ve heard people say this when they lose their job or something like that – which sucks, I won’t dispute that. But try losing – your ability to do what you love, your wife, all thoughts of life as you once envisioned it, articulate physical movement, and the voice you once had. Why did this happen? As near as I can figure it happened so these people could stroke themselves by offering platitudes to someone while saying “I’m glad I’m not that guy.”
The shit list is certainly longer, but I need to clean my apartment. That’ll be #4 – I hate how it takes so long to do everything.



…And Jarrett decided to blog and title it “Potpourri”, and he saw that it was good. He named it thus because he will ramble on aimlessly – that is to say, there will be no unifying theme. Words will spew from his mind the way vomit might spew from the gullet of a drunkard. Like the contents of that upchuck, the thoughts of this blog will spill out in the order that they are cued. First, that ham sandwich from breakfast, then the Elmer’s glue he at when he couldn’t find anything to eat. Oh! And here comes a fiesta – the beef chimichanga, rice and beans he had for lunch. All of this is surrounded by a brownish green sauce composed of the Equate chocolate weight loss shake he had just before binging, bile and the various alcoholic beverages he has imbibed.

The Academy is turning up the music, suggesting that I wrap up my extremely wordy and verbose intro. That being the case, I shall now vomit with the written word.

The following could be a true account of how tangential my thinking can be: Neil Young’s “Keep on Rockin’ in the Free World” starts playing in my car. I hear the line “Keep on Rockin in the Free World” – my mind skips to Sean Connery in “The Hunt for Red October”. He’s giving a speech to his crew and says that they will conduct missile drills while the Americans listen to their rock and roll. From there, Sean takes me to his role as Henry Jones, Sr. in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade and we run through some of the lines of that one. After that, I hitched a ride with Harrison Ford to Raiders of the Lost Ark. In that film, Indiana’s arch nemesis is a French archeologist named Belloq. Now I’m thinking of France and would like some French fries. I go to McDonald’s to satisfy this craving, but need gas for the car. I drive to the nearest gas station and see how much the gas costs and get upset. Moral of the story? Gas costs too much.

I hate the microwave, it always has the correct time which is ALWAYS at least +30 minutes from the time I would prefer or expect.

The playlist on my phone always works its way around to “I Can’t Get No Satisfaction” by the Stones that Roll. It’s symbolic – I can’t get no satisfaction from that song over and over again.

ITEM! I just remembered that I did a dye test and am happy to report that I got an A. It was a tough one, too; at one point he showed me a piece of fabric with a bright color on it. The doctor asked me “what color is this?” I really wanted to say blue, but I went with my gut and said yellow. I jest. The dye test showed that there was no obstruction in the catheter. As such, I will not have to have surgery. This further suggests that I have a VERY high tolerance for Baclofen. This fact is actually very annoying, I have to get refilled about once a month – when I first got the pump, it was my understanding that I’d need a refill every 4-6 months. As annoying as this is, I feel an odd sense of pride about this abnormally high dose – I can only speculate as to why. My guess is that it’s related to my college days, where being able to consume a lot of *something* made you cooler. That’s neither here nor there (what is?), the current plan is to try something called “flex dosing” – this is where the pump puts out more medicine at certain times and less medicine at other times (obviously). If you catch me between 6:30am and 6:30pm, I’ll be relaxed and noodley, after 6:30pm I’ll be as stiff as a board. If you catch me after midnight, I’ll be in bed so get out of my room, weirdo.

One last thing – it’s HOT outside (I should be a weatherman).



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