Sedation…….

Reduction of anxiety, stress, irritability, or excitement by administration of a sedative agent or drug.

WWW on Ms. Sumbrum, this is about “agent”, not “drug”. (Lisa don’t slap me, nor tell, she never comes here any more.)

What sedates you? I dunno Victor, but I bet a twenty you’re gonna tell us what sedates you.

Mebbe. Prolly. Yes. Yes, I am.

I know there are cat-haters that wonder by, and it’s all good. Tonight though - after doing Maynard “honey do’s” and running a few Victor errands - I finally collapsed in the computer chair at 8pm.

Lo and behold, ‘company’. Jackson, my at least fitteen year old Maine Coon cat - has decided this day the best sleeping place is up agin my keyboard on the cool wooden desk top. I wasn’t aware he was here (I hate light bulbs [except like mebbe 40 watt ones during.. Well.. u know..] So I was startled. Had he been a dog, he’da been licking my face apologizing.. But he’s a cat.. And he slowly turned and caught my eyeballs… then laid his head right back down where it was.

It’s two hours later now.. And he’s still there. Yes, he’s even typed a few numbers (without intent) as his paw rested on the right sidea my keyboard. He snoozes… He awakens.. He cleans his paws, this part, that part, accepts (mostly) my stroking him - but more he evokes (silently) “I just want peace.”

That sedates me.

Another “agent” - water. I’m a bath person. I always jump in the tub at 6:10am, so I’m off for fitteen GD $$’s of gas by 6:20 or so. I should back that bath start time up to 6am, ‘cause it’s heaven to me. The time to remember yesterday, think of what’s on tap for today - all while selfishly accepting the warmth and wonderful feel of the bath.

The newspaper and coffee. Call me a simpleton, I don’t givea rats. What better than to “keep up”, and to as well scan for interesting tidbits about our country, our world.

Being with someone of the opposite sex. No, not the lunch table at work with only two - BEING with someone of the opposite sex. It’s a selfish thing mebbe - but what better than the main thoughts of conversation going directly too the one you’re with, and vice versa. It’s sedation.

Driving. I commute 35 miles (each way) in my HRL daily. People who live a stone’s throw from work think I’m nuts. People who live in the adjoining city ask “how can you do that?”.. It’s easy. Driving time is wonderful thinking, reflecting, people watching time. There’s something to be said about being in control - and when u take a jaunt, you are that.

Happy Hour. Aside from $1.25 draws, it’s always attended by good friends, great conversation, and devoid of talk of work, ex’s, bills, bank balance, worries, shitty things that happened within the day, worry of deadlines, internal crap you and only you worry about. It’s light, it’s fun, it’s cheap. Drinking is not a good thing. Leaving after three beers with a “who gives a shit what happens the remainder of the night” - priceless.

Radio. It always pisses me off that things we usedta get for free (TV, radio, water, etc) now cost. El Cheapo AM/FM radios don’t cost squat. I have a station I tune into each day en route - and it’s like they’ve become a family member - and I get the shakes if I ain’t listening to them. A feeling of “I belong.”

Comments. NO, please don’t feel obligated. Lisa, Gail, Connie, Lillie, Jana, Nancy, Misty, Rae, Kathie, Teresa - whomever.. Doesn’t matter. Comments are a sedative agent to me.

Basketball - live. Doesn’t matter the skill level or the age. It’s intimate. No shoulder pads. No helmets. No views 276’ from the action. It’s up close. It’s personable. It’s emotional. It’s all about passion. It’s all about success, failure, and how that’s dealt with. If offered the chance to attend the World Series, The Super Bowl, the NCAA Championship, The Belmont, The Indy 500 --- or, a High School basketball game that potentially could end in overtime - cinchy.
The HS basketball game. I love emotions. Especially thru osmosis. Basketball emits hella passion, emotion.

People watching. From the little snotnose who accepts my money nightly at Mickey-D’s - and each and every time it’s like she just got outta embrace with Antonio Banderas. You couldn’t wipe that smile offa her face… And tonight, being the tightass I am, Dollar General has oil for $1.25 a quart. The HRL “drinks it.” The EXTREMELY large cashier lady openly bitched about this/that (6:57pm, closing tim7pm) “we need to lock that damn door now.”.. “NO, I can’t cash a hundred.. At this timea night? No way!… I had’a customer say “ask your manager if you can take the hundred… I said “I AM the manager”!… Just whenya think the world is
blasé’, people happen.

Retiring. Yes, I enjoy going to bed. Now don’t get me wrong. I don’t grab the pom pons and gyrate for thirty minutes to wear me out.. I ain’t training for no iron man contest.. I don’t even have a stress list of “must do’s” for the day… point is.. I really do suckup every moment of every day until the bod tells me “git ur ass in there.” And it feels SOOOO GD good sinking into
bed. It rarely takes me 5-7 minutes before I’m sawing logs, and mebbe thirty before I’m in my REM’s. Problem is, that probably held true during the marital “you know” days - so, mebbe another reason she motorcycled away!

Writing. Victor, NO? Say it ain’t so?… Yes, writing is a sedative agent. You have this blank picture… (Some call it “a rabbit in a snowstorm”) and you mess it all up with letters. I find that therapeutic. Relaxing. Rewarding. Sedative.

Might you.. Oh faithful blog stopper-byer.. Thinka what sedates you (no Kendra, not Xanax.) I’m talking life sedatives.

Lemme know, I’d really love to hear. It’s now 10:45pm. Jackson has allowed me to stay where I am this long. Thanks Jackson. I’ve reduced my anxiety, stress, irritability, excitement .

TGIF, love, Victurd.