there is no real comfort sitting at this work comfort and that is the first thought distracting me from the ramble that might be... this hospital demonstrates absolutely no awareness of ergonomics or the discomforts, reduced productivity, and disabilities associated with and caused by uncomfortable work spaces... for instance, this primary unit computer is situated at the corner of a counter with no leg space under the counter so leaning forward is the typical way this station is used... officially it is the only computer we have... the keyboard is set on the counter offering no room for a wrist rest so it is a set up for carpal tunnel... since most of the work I do on the computer is extra and unofficial (and denied regularly in public meetings, though praised by the managers who benefit from the work), any suggestions I might have for improving the work station are brushed aside and if I complain I am told I should not be at the computer anyway... then I am asked to create a new form or system of auditing and they look away as I break the rules about being at the computer... management here definitely follows the three monkey philosophy (see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil) except that here it is more like "see nothing, hear nothing, speak nothing, do nothing (or as little as possible)"... so i suppose it is more of a four monkey philosophy, but then, the inferrence in the three monkey philosophy is that they do nothing so maybe not...

so every now and then, much too often for the process of free associative babble, I shall pause to sit back and stretch mmuscles and move my joints and in turn, break my concentration... alas, the trials and tribulations of trying to goof off at the computer while supposedly working for a living... at times like these I would much prefer returning to being independently wealthy...

so the good news (good being relative, I suppose) is that i've finally caught up on this month of June, 2005 in which I stepped away from online daily diary writing more than I have since I started this particular online daily diary entitled behind the candoor (which, for those of you who are not afficianatos of the history of adult films in America, loosely refers to one of the most popular titles from one of the most popular adult film actresses, specifically Behind The Green Door starring Marylin Chambers, since your curiosity is now so aroused that you might get frustrated if I left you hanging and you didn't know how to do it yourself (find the title, that is)... just another sample of my irreverence sense of humor... the subtitle, life in black and white, might have an equally shady (or double entendre or hidden meaning) origin (or we could create one or two), but the facts as I remember them officer sir are simply that I wanted to state the facts, as Joe Friday would say, without any distractions of color or design or images or the usual stuff that makes online diaries more visually fun... for one thing, I distract myself enough without bells, whistles, and graphics... and also i do not have the computer power to do it up as I would like if I was to explore the world of graphics and collages and brushes and all that good design stuff... and I'd have to learn java and CSS and, yeah, I didn't feel like all those distractions here...

so what we have is me and the words in a colorless landscape in an attempt to focus my usually wandering (or meandering) mind on the journey I am experiencing day by day in this life... the stark format reflects the stark lifestyle I have now since losing everything (like the sun going down on me, which leaves night, dark, black, and white letters... it all makes sense if you follow the bouncing fingers... and speaking of bouncing fingers, though I am alone in this world these days, Marylin Chambers would be welcome behind the candoor too... did I mention Sleepless in Seattle and You've Got Mail were both on twice today?... so yeah, it's really Meg Ryan on my mind, not Marylin, or is it Marilyn, yeah, maybe, anyway, either would be welcome, though Meg had me at hello)...

as I sit here in this awkward position I feel my belly bulging out to new proportions and it is definitely not comfortable... sharing this body in it's present state and condition is so not something I want to do, and yet, I can hear those dang whipporwills... and Beth Gibbons, I also hear Beth Gibbons in my head... give me a reason to be... and I wonder where all my inspiration to be a sub 2:30 marathoner went... out with the trash in Toronto, perhaps... along with the singer woman child, your eyes are wild, the rain runs down your hair... woman child, mercy mild, what will you tell your teddy bear?... and the actor and... doesn't anybody see the me I used to be...

it would be lament if there wasn't such an edge to my perspective these days... see, it is not easy to lament or throw a good pity party when the ideal of honesty without harm is one you live by (that you being me, in this case) and when confronted in physical reality with the ideals and beliefs and desires and stuff that makes me who I am, I find it near impossible to cop out and settle for less... so it's all bullshit, the whining and complaining and finding excuses as if I could actually be happy with myself settling for a fraction of the me I know as me...

so I shall happily kick myself with a stern distain (and a sense of humor) until I stop this mad dash toward the slow train to death that is so much the human way and return to my even more different lifestyle and clarity... more isolated, I shall be, but only one, dear Yoda, is all I need to find me... hearing the Moody Blues now, Seventh Sojourn and the first break-up recording, Blue Jays... I've been saved by the music more than a few times in this life... if only someone truly understood what I mean and would share the experience, that would be one of the greatest turn-ons I can imagine... but for now I am living in the land of make-believe, trying not to let it show...

. o O ( NOTES ARE THE NEW HAPPY PILL ) O o .
(just let me know you were here)