As a grunt warrior in our war, I have kind of a routine I follow. There’s only X amount of time in a day to get X amount of things done. In this war the things to get done exceeds the allotted time I have to give it. I spend X amount of time researching. I spend X amount of time writing, X amount of time exercising, X amount of time with family, X amount of time answering emails, X amount of time in my garden, X amount of time in the spirit world, and so it feels like I’m pulled in 100 different directions on most days. The other day my wife asked me something and I responded back to her, and she told me I left out two words in the sentence. I told her it saves time. I should have written that sentence—saves time. Click….click.
Bonking is a term used in marathon running. It typically happens after about two hours of continuous pounding on your muscles, but everyone is different. On my first marathon I bonked at mile 19 and the last seven miles felt like eternity. I trained harder for the following one and I bonked at mile 21, gained two miles—improvement. I trained even harder the next year and got hurt in training. Recovered and trained harder and got hurt again. I trained for five years in a row and was only able to run in two. Yesterday at around 11:11am your author bonked.
For the last three months I had a routine where I shut off the war at a certain time. I put in my 8, 10, 12, 16 hours for the day, enough. I do something to completely take my mind off the days events. One of them is I like to watch people build things like hot rods. I’ve always had a fantasy of owning my own shop and building my own Ghost Garden truck. I want my garden truck on the outside to look like it crawled out of a grave but inside it is badass custom with a hot motor. Of course the suspension has to be beefy because I want to haul loads of dirt and various things I need to support every grow season.
You get the idea.
Prior to these fucking pricks launching this scam I started secretly planning for my mid-life crisis. I already had the fake gold necklace. Maybe I get a tattoo of a half-naked girl on my forearm. I don’t know. Definitely need a hot car. College girls love hot cars right? As a bus driver I look at a lot of cars all day every day. Sometimes it’s tormenting while planning a mid-life crisis. The car I selected was the classic American mid-life crisis sports car—Corvette. I want the C6 Z06. It’s not that much really, $30-$40K.
I finally confessed to my wife that its time for me to go into my mid-life crisis and that we need to talk so we can work out all the fun details of it. Her biggest problem with it was the $30-$40K for the car. I told her that there wouldn’t be a dime pulled from savings to pay for it. I was going to pile on a bunch of overtime for six months. In transit overtime is unlimited. Work as much as you want then drop dead. So, it’s game on.
I was pouring on the overtime and the money was mounting fast. I should have the Corvette and hot college girls by the summer of 2020. Timing was perfect. I turn 60 in October. And then the ghost garden truck creeps in my mind. Not really a college girl attraction but practical for a ghost gardener doing victory garden installs. The C6 Corvette will look pretty stupid driving down the road with shovels and rakes sticking out the windows and where are the girls going to sit? I settled on the Ghost Garden truck and I was excited. I’d start the build by June 2020.
And we all know what happens on Feb 29, 2020 and I get terminated and my little amount of money for my happy mid-life crisis gets sucked out of my savings in three months. Fuckers. Now you know where I get my rage.
After I bonked yesterday at 11:11am I went to bed until three. Awoke and went out on a four mile walk, ate a salad and went back to bed shattered, my brain is battered, splattered all over—Seattle. Forget the sex, and sex, and sex. I am shattered.
In prep for my Ghost Garden truck I watch a master rat rod builder on youtube—Halfass Kustoms. I’ve been watching his videos for a long time. He’s schooling me for my build. I haven’t watched his channel for a while because at the end of the day I’m usually shattered and just drop off to sleep. Lying in bed I go to his channel, and I discover his entire shop was burnt to the ground while he was in Texas on vacation. He handled it a lot better than I did. I wrote a comment and told him how sorry I was and offered to send him money that I don’t have to help him re-build. I’ll cut salary at the VRR and send it to him if I have too. There’s a lot of selfishness in my offer. His channel helped me greatly— un-wind from this war. Now it’s gone. As he says, “It is what it is.”
I awoke around midnight thinking of him and his shop and decided to run a session out in the garden. In a previous garden session I told you that I asked the spirits to tone it down then reversed it, well I reversed it again and asked them to please tone it down. For me, they are coming through too loud. Sabrina said they would. When I step outside I immediately notice a difference. The spirits are quiet for this session talk. An incredible calm is what I feel.
In this session I discuss tests I developed as my own paranormal scientist. I’ve created numerous tests over the years to help me understand the two worlds and how we are interlinked. If I can get my tests to repeat, I can then possibly validate it as provable. To whom though? Is it for me, or is it to share? I also talk about Tesla and how I have numerous sessions where the spirits are mentioning his name. For those of you interested in spiritual things I think you might find it interesting. I hope. At the end of the audio I discuss our war and the vibe I am picking up, I hope you can make it to the end but if not you can always just click…click..click out at any time while listening.
Bonus audio—hungry stomach growling sounds. I think all I ate the day before was a small bowl of soup and a small salad.
Author note: Mick is describing Seattle right now. Money grabbers. Don’t mind the maggots. Transgender much?
I am about a month older than you. I guess I am permanently unretired, at the demand of the glober-ment. With 7 more years before I would 'get' my 'full money' back, (ha!) I have no doubt it will be long gone or be in CBDs in which case I would refuse. But it's fun to know how close in age we are, almost sixy whoot.....blessings jackie in Poortland
Sad about his shop burning down. Twice I was leaving for vacation, but had to run back into the house because I forgot something.
First time I smelled a smoldering light switch, so I quickly dissambled the plate and removed the antique dimmer switch from the circuit. Crisis averted.
Second time was a leaking fuel tank on a motorcycle. Took a little longer to remove the tank and clean up the spill.