Never mind the connotations of that title. It’s too cold to go outside.
I continue at my glacial pace of change to back away from Facebook. I like the history pages I belong to but the people I know, especially from misc.writing, do not add value in any comparable way. Mostly they want to argue, and I am tired of that shit. I’m tired of it for a strange reason: often-reflexive argumentation is nothing but each of us being driven by ego. Ego is important and I’ll never get rid of mine, but I don’t have to let it drive what I do so damn much. Also, tonight I hurled an epithet at someone I’ve never argued with. Well, she and someone else, whom most readers of this know, presumed to know better than me on the wrong subject, and used doing so to compound the sin of missing my original point. So, fuck them, and ego, fuckin’ pointless.
Another reason is it distorts relationships but I’ve prudently decided not to expand on that.
What am I gonna do, then? Write my fuckin’ book. Repair my house and rent out some rooms. Up my game at my friend’s company, where I’ve worked for over a year in a very part-time capacity. Develop additional income streams. Keep my income and expenses low and stay under various debtors’ radar a few years while I Regroup and Figure Shit Out. Funny that I named this blog Regroup because I am still in a state of regroup, just not the same state as when I named it. A different regroup. Keeps the number 16, though. I nice round number, that, two the fourth, ’10’ in hex.
Write my fuckin’ book. It is about modern times, social tensions, racial politics, and disruptive technologies and it starts on November 15, 1855. Will conclude in May or June of 1856. Shit-ton of things going on in those days. My problem is my brain has NEVER cooperated with getting shit done. Example, it took me a total of fourteen years to get six years’ worth of degrees. I was never good at school and barely survived the corporate world. But survive I did, and so long as I’m still doing what passes for my best when I finally snap into the next world it really doesn’t matter what I get done in the meantime.
Regroup 
I kind of get the whole “fuck facebook” thing, but I confess that I cannot give sufficient fucks about it one way or another. I hide stuff that bores or annoys me (food poasts, classic car poasts). I pay attention to clever funny sayings and vids of adorable aminals and children. I look at whatever my children post. I skim the anti-Tr*mp stuff to see what new horror he is visiting upon this country that I may have missed in the news. That’s pretty much it. It fills in some white space within my work day.
Good wishes on getting your house in shape and filled with renters. Good wishes on acquiring meaningful income as well. And best wishes for your novel endeavors!
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