Nothing is of particular excitement as an adult. Writing is a chore after work. Work is a constant. Weekends are meant for cleaning and chores. I haven’t taken any days off in a few months in the hope that I’ll take a longer vacation in the future. Chronic pain and tiredness makes everything difficult. Activities I used to enjoy in public now make me think twice and it’s taking my full effort to feel comfortable in spaces I used to enjoy. I find myself in a coffee shop struggling to stop thinking about how relaxing a strong beer would be, but I’m drinking coffee in an effort to better myself and to lose weight.

My neuroticism increases when I’m feeling down, stressed, or out in public where others may attack me. Shoving, pushing, and navigating through crowds just isn’t worth the effort it was five years ago.. Looking for parking isn’t a pastime. Our building took away our freedom to grill because of insurance or more realistically that the property managers are cruel and are targeting us for a different reason. Grilling was a wonderful activity where I could test different marinades and spice rubs. It was one of those lovely times for just the two of us. I understand fire risks living in southern California, but I have always covered the charcoal grill or closed the propane tank promptly after serving our food. The animals seemed a greater danger than the raging fire. 

Grilling got us through the pandemic when everything else was closed. Listening to obscure online radio, singing, and dancing around a fire every weekend. Raccoons, Opossums, and Snakes would come join our festival. They would speak to us and we would welcome them. We would hold festivals more frequently in the hopes that they would celebrate with us. The forest-dwellers were as confused as we were. We didn’t know when we would “flatten the curve” or “return to normal”. We may as well enjoy our time together as new friends, as careful observers. 

Their food sources had been disrupted by the closures and the aroma of the grill attracted them. It was a party with ale, grilled meats and vegetables. My beer of choice would be a North Coast Brother Thelonius and usually a second belgian-style ale. When dinner was served, we would open a California Red Blend or a Bordeaux, Côte du Rhônes, Tempranillo, Malbec, occasionally a more medium Montepulciano d’Abruzzo. Fruity and peppery notes, but never an overwhelming oak flavor. I only recently discovered orange wines and this isn’t related to my writing, but they are quite tasty and I’d recommend you try them.

Even with back and knee pain, I’ve been consistent with weightlifting. Not so much with running, but running a mile is an accomplishment. I joined a martial arts studio in an effort to build some new (sober) hobbies. Karate feels familiar to me having achieved the rank of Black Belt many years ago. I’m completely new to the Kenjutsu stances and sparring with a sword versus using my hands and feet as weapons will take great practice. That being said, I was thrown into a sparring class having missed the first one with the basic footwork. I’m quite off-balance. I had fun. Writing makes me happy. I’m existing. I’m doing. I’d much rather have three beers and relax, but like dancing in the forest with the animals, good things come with uncertain new steps, even exercise.