(Phaysis)

So I’m getting ready to begin the start of my prepping for my departure to Texarkana tomorrow. I would already be all packed and loaded, but this coffee won’t drink itself. Besides, it’s my life, it’s my time.

Not really. It’s work, coffee, Ruby on Rails. Sleep. Rinse and repeat.

I really should’ve had this Ruby on Rails project finished long before now. It’s supposed to be simple with RoR. Shit simple. But I keep making it difficult. Keep adding stuff like “secure database queries” and “input validation”…and I’m not even started on the Posts models yet! One of these days, I’ll do a proper writeup of my RoR experiences, but there’s no time for that, what with my staring dumbfaced at code and drifting off to play minesweeper for 3 hours before bed.

I need a break. Really, I need a break. I guess part of my fascination with the latest U2 album is that the band sequestered themselves to a villa in Fez, Morocco while they wrote the album. It’s the idea of being someplace else for a while and finding my voice again that appeals to me. I don’t travel, and I typically don’t make plans to leave town for the weekend. So I end up being here, doing the same ol’, for months on end, with little variations in the pattern. It’s no wonder I’ve grown old and inflexible.

I feel like leaving for a while, but going to Texarkana this weekend for 48 hours will have to do, I guess. I won’t have the time, energy, or space to throw myself to the muses; trips home aren’t for that. Travel isn’t for me; that’s my feeling. Travel is for people who have accrued vacation time and have managerial approval to spend it. Travel is for the unemployed who have friends in distant cities. Travel is for people who don’t have to worry about supporting themselves or paying rent on a place to store their stuff. Working stiff contractors like me can’t travel. Time worked is time paid, and I am running broke.

Maybe I should just sell all my stuff and roam. Eh, I’m too old for that. At my age, that kind of behavior is just two steps away from being a homeless bum. I dunno, maybe it’ll be therapeutic, or maybe if I throw myself at the bottom hard enough I’ll bounce up higher than I am now. Maybe I actually flourish in the face of change. Who’s to know?

Happy Zombie Jesus Day.

Nice and warm today, and I’m out and about on foot. Should’ve worn a hat. Springtime here in Austin is a beautiful, beautiful time. The birds come out and show their colours. And boy, how they shine. It was cold and wretched yesterday, and the lack of a crowd at Pease park was incredible. I was able to walk around without dodging unleashed dogs or ducking for cover from errant frisbee golf discs.

Got a call from my chiropractor yesterday (unorthodox, given it was Saturday). She left a message announcing that my doctor’s clinic has decided to kick her out and replace her with a physical therapist. That’s a condemnation on her, to be sure, but I wonder what the true reason is.

Maybe she’s not performing to the business metrics required by the clinic, like keeping up rental contributions on the exam room, keeping a certain quantity of clientelle, making sure the number of reschedules and days out are below a limit. Maybe the clinic, in hiring her and the acupuncturist, made a grab at “embracing the eastern medicines” for holistic therapy, but now in this current market all the white people are shedding their need to spend money on the frou-frou stuff. I dunno.

What I do know is that she fixed my back and gave me a few methods to strengthen myself against further problems. I do feel some allegiance to go back to her at her new solo practice, but given the uneven ride thus far, I’m not sure if I should cut and run, passing the buck onto my insurance company’s support of her services, or just keep going.

I’ll return her call Monday and talk to my insurance carrier to see if my visits will still be covered. But even then, at $30 copay per office visit, it’d be a tall order to actually visit her as often as she’d like. I’m not made of money.

Speaking of money, the paycut I got a few months ago is starting to affect me. I’ve gotten some money on the side here and there (like the check from when the kid backed into my car), and soon I’ll be getting my tax return, but no matter where I cut corners, I’m just above breaking even, and that’s scary. May 27 is my 24-month anniversary at my job, and nobody but Volt and my client’s HR department know if they will honor my latest extension to August or if they’ll walk me out the door next month. Looking at my bank balance, I seriously hope they let me stay around.

I picked up the new U2 album “No Line on the Horizon”, and I’m giving it a spin right now. I like it so far. I may make a review later.