My desktop console is back, a day overdue from the time I was promised that it would be ready; even when I plugged it in it still didn't work right. Not all my disk drives were connected, a very amateur mistake on their part. I cracked open the case, traced some wiring, and got lucky in deducing at the first try as to which of the numerous vacant 5-pin connector spots that one of my media/backup drives needed to be plugged into; thankfully fixing the problem without any adverse effect. On the bright side, my replacement graphics card is a couple generations more evolved than the failed one, and the slightly greater expense for it was worth it in terms of cost effectiveness compared to the few days of time and money I would have had to use to reconfigure my network and backup storage. Doing that, plus some domestic stuff like housecleaning/laundry, and making fresh dark rye bread and some borscht* from what I gleaned at the Farmers' Market earlier this morning, were the only productive things I did all day. The rest of the day was spent brooding in a depression which has been sapping energy away from me today I suppose: about all the extra bills being doled out to me lately for things I didn't want or ask for, the remaining pain and stiffness I have, plus some other issues too personal to be put in this entry. The comedy channels on iTunes aren't being very effective today.
Out of this malaise, I did some web-surfing. One thing that caught my attention that I'd really be interested in for the sake of being part of a greater science experiment involving all of the human race is the Genographic Project, sponsored by National Geographic magazine. It would be cool to see ultimately where my roots originated from through the course of a few millennia by using genetic markers. The few documentaries I've seen about this expansion of humankind amazes me.
Speaking of documentaries, I'm reminded that my TV service will resume at some time in mid-September. The only time I wish I had my digital cable this summer was to watch some of the Olympics coverage from London; other than that, I was fine and thankful to be without it. However, on thing that I am disappointed about, throughout this annual summertime media fast, is that I would have hoped to show signs of becoming a more creative thinker. I would have hoped that the absence of someone else's pre-fabricated stories would leave my mind to be freer to exercise the power of filling in blanks with its own imagery, and forced to communicate it, instead of absorbing stories and knowledge passively all the time. That doesn't seem to be happening, at least to the degree I wish it could be. After an experience from yesterday, while accompanying a friend for a 'not-so-average-everyday' activity, I realize how badly I'm becoming at instantaneous improvisation, initiating interesting conversations, making fiction, creative storytelling, and just not being able to even easily outright lie about something (if it meant using it defensively to save my own skin, or just using 'white-lies' to preserve dignity and help save face for others in embarrassing moments).** We found some laughter in that fact (which was good, since at that moment, she was trying to endure lots of pain).
As Fall approaches, along with looking into more fitness programs to keep me in form for next year's running season, and educating myself with practical skills, I think I have to check out more things on the scene that deal with the humanities, and sign up for work that allows me to have some more creative license on things.
*- Perhaps it's because the extra bills that woke up the more frugal Ukrainian half of my personal genome in me. Around here, BYOB means either "Be Your Own Baba", or "Bachelor, Yet Occasional Baker". Both meanings applied here today.
**- One would think that not being prone to bullshitting people would be a very positive attribute to have, but I know I've hurt fthe eelings a lot of people more with blunt sincerity than I have with spinning and feeding them a bunch of sugar-coated mistruths.
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