Karl (louderback) wrote,
Karl
louderback

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Cartesian Rumination

cogito ergo sum

Cogito cogito ergo cogito sum?

I ruminate therefore I am a ruminant?

I am bovine! Hear me Moo!
I don't know what to do,
So I'll just follow 'long behind the herd!

Say it now and say it loud!
"I'm a cow and I am proud!"
[refrain] Moo!Moo!Moo!
*trails off*

I have been ruminating. Rumination is, for me, one of those problematic activities with a questionable value and undesirable fallout. Not unlike teaching your cow to fly only to discover the cow-pie problem.

I am depressed. This is indisputable. I know the symptoms of clinical depression and I've got 'em. The problem is, of course, that knowing this I have done nothing about it. Self-diagnosed depression is one of the most common forms of malpractice in the nation. C'est la merde. Given this supposition, I could go on and spout some hopelessness, catalog my musings on the vicissitudes of my position, blather about nerves and upcoming surgery and generally have a good wallow in the pit of self-pity. And why not? Who deserves it more? If I don't pity myself nobody else is going to do it. *yawn* That bored even me.

I'm pinning a lot of hopes on my surgery this Thursday (the 18th, this time I've got it right) and will be devastated if it has no impact on my vision (as three of four doctors predict). I can't say, particularly this is so. I am adapting well enough to the level of vision I have and to the possibility that I may lose even this. I can do most things I want to do at the moment. The problem being (of course there had to be a problem haven't you been paying attention?) that at the moment there is nothing I want to do. I spend my days here in front of my computer using opera to browse and CoffeeCup HTML to edit everything I touch. As long as I write I can pretend I'm doing something useful. As long as I have a screen reader I can limp along through the three web pages I ever visit and manage the few Instant Messages I accept.

I am very nervous about the prospect of going back to work. I don't think I can do it. The job I'm going back to is one in which I cannot reasonably excel given the conditions. It is, further, a job with no future for me. Given past circumstances I could have leveraged this job into something better. Now, it is a dead end out of which I cannot escape. I'm not willing to accept a sinecure or a drudge spot just to have an income. Without my vision I think things must change radically and I'm not at all sure I can manage that sort of change within my existing framework. I could, possibly, transfer to another location within my company or even find a new position somewhere but both require relocation. I don't think I can manage that. I would leave this place in a heartbeat, but I don't think my family could be happy in that event. I would leave them behind and just support them from a distance if I could, but I don't think they could be happy with that.

My sons keep asking my why I don't just retire. Gods know I'm in the mood half the time, but the truth is that I'm just not willing to start the down-sizing of my life that accompanies retirement. I've already had the fates hit the emergency brake on a lot of things I'm doing. To have to pick and choose my limitations on top of those afflicting me is not better … it's worse.

I need to win the Lotto.
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