gru:Bz
Average millennial living life on the edge (of the Midwest). Probably too immature for Micro.blog but I like it here.
Notes
Life goes five years at a time
This could totally be a quote from some sappy movie or a self-help book maybe, I’m not sure. But I went to a funeral a few months ago and saw a lot of family I’d distanced myself from over the years. Not because of something crazy that happened, or a political disagreement or anything like that; I’ve just never been much for sticking around family just because they’re your family.
But anyway, I had an uncle giving me shit because I hadn’t came to see him or so much as gave him a phone call in years. But then another uncle came to the rescue and told him to stop being so hard on me. “Life goes five years at a time,” he said. “You go to work, come home and watch a little TV every night and next thing you know, five or ten years have gone by.”
I like that. I mean I hate that it goes by so fast, but I like his take on it. I feel time speeding up more every week. It’s terrifying.
I remember being in school and each quarter seemed like it took an eternity to get through. Each day seemed like an entire week. Now I commute an hour to work every morning, work a 10-hour shift and then drive an hour back home every night. That gives me about three hours of free time every night before I have to go to bed and do it all over again.
Next month’s schedule comes out the third week of every month and before I know it, I’m done with that one and the next one’s coming out. I’m only in my 30’s but I think I’m beginning to understand the mid-life crisis. Life is short.
Finding my digital home
I’m not one of the cool people who were on the Fediverse before the big Twitter exodus of 2022.
When Elon took over, I was one of many who mourned the death of Twitter and moved on to a better place: Mastodon. It was such a refreshing change of pace.
Happy Solstice! (I'm miserable)
We're just clothes
When I stop at the gas station or the grocery store after work I’m in my full salesguy attire: a long sleeve oxford, usually black or grey slacks and black leather dress shoes with the little strip of fake wood around the heel.
People call me “sir” and look at me like I have my shit together. I absolutely do not, but I guess the clothes really do make the man 🤨
I walk into the same place on a day off, wearing an old t-shirt, jeans and some chucks. It can even be the same cashier from the day before, but they’ll talk to me in a completely different tone and never try to make small talk like they do when I’m dressed up.
People are funny. And shallow.