There are days when life just feels overwhelming.  I’ve never felt like this before and don’t know what to make of it.  This is  intriguing, if I detach myself from this.  I’m not going crazy – that much I know. Even little things like getting my condo ready for relatives visiting is distressing.

One day at a time.  Take a deep breath.  Put everything in perspective.  Count your blessings and fortunes.  I repeat all these mantras.  Eventually the anxiety goes away.  Go out for a walk, enjoy the fall weather.  And so that’s what I shall do now.

I’ve been more and more forgetful lately.  My reading glasses & sunglasses disappear and reappear whenever they want.  I have no idea where they go.  But they do eventually show up but not before causing much annoyance and irritation.  I have a couple of reminder apps on my phone.  I don’t think I ever used them.  The other day, I went to get a new dish towel to wipe the dishes.  After I took it out, the laundry had just finished so I put the laundry into the dryer (the linen cabinet and the washing machine are within steps of each other).  When I got back to the kitchen, I had no idea where the dish towel went.

I’m grateful that public transit is by my doorsteps.  Because I sometimes can’t find my car keys.  I have used my spare car keys more than once.  And now that I got a new TV and receiver, I have more remote controls than I know what to do with.  At least 1 of the 3 will go off on their own.  I found one of them on top of the washing machine once.  Maybe it went to look for the lost socks.

While I try to laugh this off, this is actually starting to stress me out.  I don’t want to end up like my dad in his final years of life.

A few months ago, I was on the street car when this Chinese woman got on.  She was probably in her late 50s to early 60s.  Even though it was spring, she still wore a long winter jacket.  I watched as she made her way down the streetcar.  People parted and let her through the narrow aisle.  She sat down in seat in front of me.  Her graying hair was coarse and unruly.  She started to talk to herself in Cantonese.  I couldn’t really make out what she was saying except I knew she was upset.  People stared at her.

I felt sorry for her and didn’t know what to do. I think she knew people were watching her but she couldn’t help it.  She grew quiet and then would start again.  She stared out the window and continued her solitary conversation.  I wonder if heart ever felt happiness and contentment.  Did she have enough to eat?  Did she have enough to get by?  I departed at my stop but her image still haunts me and every so often she pries her way back into my consciousness.  It was another recent incident that made me think of her.

I was walking to the grocery store the and noticed all the traffic beside me was stopped.  I was curious what was causing the standstill.  Up ahead a street car was stopped at a streetcar stop and the doors were opened.  But no one was entering or leaving.  Eventually an elderly man was helped down by another man.  As they walked towards the sidewalk, I could hear the younger man say “Do you need to go to the hospital?  You almost passed out.”   The younger man waved at the streetcar driver and the streetcar moved on.

The elderly man was average height, skinny and unshaven.  His clothes were old and well worn.  “Do you want an ambulance?” the younger man asked as he led the elderly man into the streetcar shelter.  I walked past them, paused and looked back.  “Just sit here and I’ll call an ambulance for you.”  I asked the guy if he needed to call 911.  He said yes and asked if I had a phone.  I nodded and called 911.  The other guy said he had to leave.  I didn’t really want to be alone with this elderly guy.  But the 911 operator stayed on the phone with me until the ambulance came.  The guy didn’t pass out. But he stood up despite me telling him to sit down.  He reached into his pants and said he had to pee.  I cringed.  People were walking by, no one had a clue what was going on.  He peed in his pants and left a puddle by his feet.  It slowly trickled down to the road.

He kept asking me if the ambulance was coming.  I told him it was just a short distance away.  I didn’t smell any alcohol on his breath.  But he wasn’t alert.  To my relief, the ambulance came within 5 minutes.  I told the paramedic what I knew and warned them about the urine.  She smiled and said they’ll look after him.  Nothing fazes these guys.

I don’t know why I wrote about these two people.  They are part of forgotten ones in our city.  We avoid them if possible (I sometimes do).  But deep down inside, I fear, bizarre as it may sound, I’ll become one of them.

I like the early Sunday mornings in my neighbourhood.  The sidewalk is sparse.  There are some joggers and dog owners.   The homeless are sitting on the park benches.  Gentrification has overlooked them.   They reclaim their ‘hood after the hipsters have left for the night.  I duck into a coffeeshop for my weekly luxury, a large soy milk latte.   I notice there is a geeky looking Asian guy with glasses sitting in the corner table.  His dark blue shirt is a nice contrast to his khaki shorts and red canvas shoes.  He is staring intently at his MacBook.  There is a small pile of papers on his right and a coffee on his left.   We glance at each other as I sit down on a table across from him.  It is a poor choice as he is off to my right and I am directly in his line of sight.  I can’t see him unless I turn my head to my right.

But I’m not one that is usually gets noticed. I get out my book and settle down.  In a few moments, I was carried away into another world.   After 20 minutes of of reading, I started to feel guilty about taking so much time to relax.  But then in the background, I heard the Eagles “Take it Easy”.  So I do.  Another song by Arcade Fire catches my attention but I don’t remember the title.   I see movement on my right.  I glance at the Asian guy who has bent down to plug his laptop in.  I notice he has hairy legs.   I guess he’s going to be there for awhile.

Soon I was lost in the rhythm of the coffee shop.  The coffee machines, the buzz of conversations and the music combine to create a mellow soundtrack.  As I sip the last of my latte, my mind start to turn to the chores for today.   One of it was to prep for my work on Monday.  It was discouraging to return to work after a week off.  I did get some chores done and got a lot of rest.  Doing nothing actually felt good.   It was expensive in one way.  I had a lot of work done on my car.  I wish I was like a car.  All I have to do is put in a new battery, replace parts and fluids and I would feel better.

For the past couple of months, my productivity at work has declined significantly.  I just can’t seem to focus on anything at all.  I work longer hours to make up for it.  But that isn’t working.  I’ve lost a lot of interest in doing stuff.  It’s just a strange feeling.  It’s as if my mind has adopted an attitude of “I don’t care anymore.”

This is an odd feeling.  I’ve had moments like this before but it would usually just last a couple of days.  I wondered if my body is just telling me to take a break.  I did take a week “off” after my dad passed in December.  But maybe it’s just a combination of stress, grief, insomnia and day to day pressures that have gotten to me.  And I’ve picked up a cold too.  Ugh.

Maybe I need to talk to a wise man or a mystic.

I was at a hospice recently to attend a service.  It was my first time there although my sister has been there a few times.  We were there to attend a remembrance service to honour those that have passed away recently.  The service was held at the front lobby which the emcee described as a sacred place.  There were names of those who have passed on a large banner against the wall.  While my dad passed away at home, the hospice provided support for us.

After the service, I chatted with someone who lost her husband.  She told me this was a very special place.  It was small (only 1 floor) and there is a volunteer staff that cook homestyle meals daily.  She talked a bit about the wonderful staff and referenced back to the lobby as sacred and special.  I thought about all the names on the large banner and figured that was what she meant.  She then said the hospice’s philosophy could be summed up with this: “You come in through the front door and you leave by the front door.”  When someone dies at the hospice, the body is carried through the front door.   The staff wait at the front lobby with candles and there is a simple ceremony.   There isn’t a back door where death is quietly ushered away.

I never thought about death in those terms before.  It’s not an easy subject to write or to read about.  Maybe there’s a lot more on my mind than I want to admit to myself.

Either I have new neighbours or one of them now has a healthy sex life.  A couple of weeks ago, I heard the orgasmic groans from one of my neighbours.  It sounded like a guy but all my neighbours (left, right and above) are women.   So one of them has a new partner?   Tonight, I heard a guy going “Ooohhh…. oohhhh… ooohhhhhhhhh”  I hope there’s no round 2.

Why can’t my neighbours be mimes?  Then they can have all the sex they want and be quiet about it.

This is not helping my insomnia at all.

It’s been incredibly busy at work.  I typically work every weekday evenings and half days on the weekends.  The other night, I was helping out on a proposal.  I finished at midnight and sent my version to someone on the west coast.  It was still 9PM over there.  He worked on it for a few more hours and sent it off to someone in Manila.  That person will put all the finishing touches and send it back to us first thing in the morning.  It’s a crazy world.   Most nights I just stumble into bed and immediately fall asleep.  I even woke up one morning with my shirt and jeans still on and my bedside lamp shining brightly.

The year actually started off well.  I got reacquainted with the small gym in my condo.  I started to look for writing courses.   Then work sort of just took over as it usually does.  In the middle of this, I managed to survive another round of job cuts.  The myth of the work life balance.  Part of me wants to leave.  Part of me is too scared to.

1.  Some people seem to have an easier life than others?  They seem to have an easier time making friends, being wealthy, better family life, good looks, more friends, etc…   But for others, it’s a one day at a time existence; life is a struggle and one has to work hard to get what you need.  It can even be lonely.  What advice would you give others who are part of the latter group?

2.  How do you stay positive and not give up when life can be so unfair?  How do you stay strong?  How do you keep your dreams alive?

3.   Adversity in life can make someone stronger.  Do you agree or disagree and why?

4.  Where do you draw inspiration and hope from?

I found out the other day that my god father passed away in 2012.  No one told my family.  He was one of my dad’s closest friend when they were young.  He gave me my first camera (along with a few red pouches).  My brother was just a wee bit envious because his godfather never gave him anything.  So my brother made up a picket sign demanding a new godfather.  Over time with illnesses hounding both my dad and my godfather, they just drifted apart.  Neither of them used email or regular mail.  Even the phone calls became scarcer as my godfather’s hearing became impaired.

Then I thought about my online friends that I’ve developed on Xanga.  If something happened to me, none of you would find out about it.  None of you would know who to call if my blog becomes inactive for a long period of time.  The opposite would probably be true too.  Then I wondered, why it was easier for me to find acceptance here.  Well – it’s easy to hide my faults when I am very careful how I present myself here.  You just see my good side.  When I talk about my faults, I usually minimize or trivialize them.  Would you accept me if you got to know me in real life?  The optimistic part of me remains hopeful.  But the fact is, my circle of friends really are really online.  If I’m not online, then it’s harder to maintain that thin, ephemeral thread of relationship here.

I’m not sure where I’m going with this.  I keep thinking a lot of you have an extensive network of close friends to lean on.  But I know that isn’t necessarily true for everyone.  Maybe there are more changes I need in my life.