I Was Thinking...

I just wrote and didn’t publish a long diatribe about my own self-loathing. It’s an odd sort of dichotomy, because intellectually I understand I have value. But that doesn’t quite ever sink in to my core identity.

It’s quite an unhealthy way to see yourself, and the lengthy essay sounded like a cry for help rather than an objective look at my own psyche. So I won’t post it. But I sure do wish whatever is broken inside me wasn’t. (and no, I’m not going to see a therapist about it, because what if they fixed me?)

I certainly don’t deserve that.

No, not in the biblical sense (or in the bedroom sense… boy, I should really rethink that title…)

I’m almost 50. Well, recently 49, and 49 is close to 50. And while I’ve been financially poor and financially well off, very rarely in my life has the thing I love doing been the same as the thing that makes money. Making money doesn’t really motivate me.

Don’t get me wrong, I WISH IT DID. Because making money, or more specifically *not* making money, is the thing I think about the most. Literally all day every day. For someone not motivated by making money, I think about making money to an absurd degree. And it ends up being a really weird dynamic. Allow me to elucidate a bit. (I mean, this is my journal so whatever I want to blabber about is fine)

I don’t think a person must love their job, and find passion in how they make money in order to be fulfilled in life. In many ways, I think tying your passion to your employment is a dangerous game that often leads to hating the thing you once loved. The nuance for me is, the main thing I’m good at (using technology) is a skill that facilitates the thing which brings me joy (helping other people, improving the lives of other people).

You’d think that would be the dog’s balls. (is that a saying?) I could help people at home, in their businesses, etc. — and it would also be a way to bring in a steady income. But my lack of being motivated by money screws it all up. See, if I help someone and then take money for the help, it no longer feels like I’ve helped them. It becomes a transaction, and all the joy I would get from improving that person’s situation is GONE.

And it’s not because the person feels less helped, or values the assistance any less. In fact, most people find joy themselves in paying for someone’s time when that person really helped them. But for my stupid brain, if it becomes a transaction, the entire mental situation changes. No longer am I helping them, rather it feels like I’m taking advantage of the person because I have a skill they themselves don’t have.

I think that’s part of the reason I love teaching so much. I’d rather everyone be able to help themselves and others than to have the knowledge and ability myself, and then take money for doing the thing. It’s really illogical on my part, and intellectually I *know* it’s illogical, but that doesn’t change how it works in my head.

So back to creation. I love creating things that bring people joy. Be it my comic, or my training, or my writing… heck even this journal entry might entertain someone in a way that makes their day a bit better because, “at least I’m not as messed up as that guy!”

I love creating so much that if I were paid hourly for “creating whatever”, so I could just make stuff all day, there might be concerns over unfair labor practices I’d be committing on myself. BUT, I don’t create that much. And it’s for a really messed up reason:

It doesn’t bring in money.

See, providing for my family is my utmost concern. Maybe that’s unhealthy, but I certainly don’t apologize for it. And due to reasons both good and bad, in order to pay for the things required to live comfortably, I need to make a significant amount of money. The best way I know to make money is currently to work for a company that pays me well for creating IT training content for them. It’s really hard work, and since I don’t know the subject matter beforehand, it means it’s mentally exhausting learning and then immediately teaching from the standpoint of an expert.

That job happens to be quite flexible when it comes to what hours I work though. Awesome, right? Well… The thing is, the more work I do, the more money I can make. So any time I’m doing something NOT directly related to working my DayJob, I have incredible guilt because I’m not making money. So the things I do that bring me joy do NOT bring me joy, because I’m not making any money while I do them. And the screwed up thing is, making money from the things I love to do is not what makes me love them, AND making money from the things I love often (not always) ruins the whole thing for me anyway.

So what’s a weirdo to do?

Well, I have done many things over the years. Recent years have seen me doing things like opening the ability for Patreon support. Also YouTube subscriptions. And KoFi memberships. And recently, Twitch subscriptions. And I made a book of my comic in order to sell a book for money.

Those types of money-making endeavors somehow “hack” my brain a bit, and allow me to experience the joy of creating without it being ruined by selling it. I think it only works because the money isn’t tied to the product, but rather to supporting me as a person. Since the individual “things” aren’t being sold (the comics in the book are all available for free online), the financial compensation is sorta separated from the products of my passions.

The thing is, it doesn’t really feel sustainable. My hope before I had to go back to creating content as my DayJob was that I could maybe grow my YouTube channel enough that I’d get a living wage from ad revenue on YouTube, and I could spend all day every day doing what I love without ruining it by attaching it to money. I haven’t uploaded a single video to YouTube in close to a year, and I still make about $300/mo from ad revenue. So if I put in another couple years, I really might be able to grow to a point that it could become a career.

But also, I don’t want YouTube to be my career… I would love for YouTube (or Patreon, or Twitch, or book sales) to provide me with a steady income that would allow me to separate the things I create from how I pay my mortgage. And if my YouTube channel grew enough that I could “create” full time, would I have the same unhealthy connection with YouTube training that I have with my DayJob now, and always feel guilty if I weren’t making more content for the thing that makes the money?

I think this is why creative folks usually do better when in a group. I don’t think my broken relationship with money is unique to me. (Well, maybe my specific brand of neuroticism is unique, but, “starving artist” is a trope for a reason)

I think the concept that Patreon was built from is fascinating. Traditionally, a patron would be a rich person who paid an artist to do art. I think my brain would require some sort of guaranteed contract in order to really go “all in” on being a creator. But I very often wonder what my life and my day to day activities would look like if I didn’t have to worry about making money. Would I be free to create content and joy? Or would I worry about something else and never really get to squeeze the juice out of life?

Lots of people want to win the lottery so they can retire and do nothing. I’d like to win a small lottery, like a few million dollars, and put the winnings into an index fund. Every month or year (I don’t know how such things work), I could take out a decent salary for myself, confident that salary would be self-sustaining so I could spend all day working. All. Day. Long.

Sometimes that work would be making training videos. Sometimes it would be doing IT work for local businesses in town. Sometimes it would be fishing while I think about stuff. Sometimes it would be writing a book.

And maybe those things would make a ton of money. But they wouldn’t have to. And I think I’d enjoy that work more than anything I’ve ever done. So if you know anyone with a few extra million dollars who wants to run a social experiment with a weird creative guy who has an unhealthy relationship with money, just let me know. :)

Well, the water heater is working again. It was honestly a real pain in the butt to replace the gas valve mechanism. All the gas pipes had to be removed piece by piece, because they were in the way when unscrewing the valve itself. Also, the sediment is too thick, and the drain valve won’t drain out the water. So I had to just quickly swap the old gas valve and the new one while the water, “GLUB GLUB GLUB’d” out of the side of the tank.

Once reassembled, the unit fired right up, and appears to be working well. I did order a replacement drain valve, and when it arrives I’ll do my best to drain and clean out the water heater tank.

Anyway, I’m pretty sore from hunkering down and wrenching apart gas lines with big pipe wrenches. The basement isn’t exactly a comfy place to work in our house, and I’m not exactly a spring chicken anymore. But I’m grateful that I was able to repair the hot water tank, and that there weren’t any major hiccups along the way!

So… our water heater just exploded a little. No one is seriously injured, and the water heater itself seems to be fine. But my ears are ringing pretty bad, and I have a bit of a headache.

Let me explain why I’m not worried about it happening again…

Our water heater has been complaining about a failed, “thermostat/well sensor” for months. Usually, I just need to reset the motherboard on the gas valve, and it runs fine for a few weeks. Sadly, this past week, it got much worse.

It’s a pretty common issue with this model of water heater. The thermostat is situated in a flimsy plastic “nook” that screws into the side of the water tank. After a few years of usage, the nook develops some cracks, and leaks water into the thermostat. The thermostat complains about being wet, and quits working. While it’s possible to replace the wet thermostat, that’s a waste of money because the nook (or the “well”) is cracked and will ruin the new thermostat after a few months.

So I ordered a new gas valve, which included a new well, thermostat, motherboard, and gas fixtures. It arrived today, and my plan is to install it tomorrow after work. (It will take a while, as the tank needs to be drained, and that will be a challenge because the tank is way overdue to have the sediment flushed)

ANYWAY, in order to have moderately warm water until I can install the new valve assembly, I’ve been resetting the thermostat so the heater will work for 10 minutes or so. Then I have to go down, reset the thermostat, and start the process over. Well, I’ve gotten REALLY good at resetting the thermostat. So when I go down and reset it, it’s finished before the thermocouple (which senses the pilot) cools down. Unfortunately, this last time, the thermocouple signaled to the motherboard that the pilot was already lit and turned on the gas.

But I didn’t know that.

So when I turned the knob to “pilot” and pushed the igniter, the entire water heater chamber was full of gas. And… the igniter did its job.

It was VERY loud. Dirt and rust particles from the burner area shot out of every opening. I still have grit and ick stuck in my hair, and my ears are ringing 45 minutes later. But I don’t think I suffered any serious injury, and once I realized what happened, I was confident in lighting the water heater again. I just need to let it cool down enough that the motherboard doesn’t think the pilot is lit.

Being an adult is weird.

My friend Ben reminded me of this online journal, and I realize that when life got particularly chaotic, I sorta forgot it existed. I rather like having a place to jot down my thoughts and daily whatevers without needing to have a “plan” about what I might actually write.

You know, like a journal is supposed to be.

I still struggle with this platform not being self-hosted, but at least I have full access to my data. And honestly, the platform is simple in all the best ways, while also being complex enough to be useable. (RSS, email subscriptions, image uploading… stuff like that)

One of my favorite features is so silly, but I can’t help it. I like that if I leave the “Title” blank, it just uses the current time as a title. That’s perfect for a journal.

Anyway, I don’t really have a lot to write about today, but I will try to regularly update this journal. I have to make the domain purchase worthwhile, right? ;)

(Oh, I started drawing my comic again! Cool, right?!?)

Being an adult is… a lot. Last week I got very little work done, and yet I was so busy, I never felt like I was procrastinating. Just CONSTANTLY ADULTING.

This week is starting the same way. This morning, we got served with a court summons. And yeah, that’s about as nerve-wracking as it sounds. At least it was nerve-wracking for me. Perhaps if I were expecting the summons, or knew it was a possibility, I wouldn’t have been so stressed out. Thankfully, Donna was at work, and she wasn’t here to experience the mortification.

The issue has to do with healthcare. Over the past year, Donna has had 3 surgeries. Early on, we paid so much for things that we met our, “total out of pocket” limit with our insurance company. That means services are supposed to be covered 100%, without any co-insurance required on our part. But the insurance company disagreed, apparently. They didn’t cover all of the anesthesia bills, and that company sent our bills (which we thought were covered) to collections, which then went to court.

The only explanation I can come up with is maybe the separate billing from the anesthesia company was out-of-network, even though the surgery was in-network. But at this point, that’s just a guess. I spent the entire morning making phone call after phone call to get the bills, fees, legal costs, etc. paid off so the court case can be dismissed. Plus I dug up other bills during the process that I paid off before the same thing happens again.

And to add insult to injury, due to my job loss, we ended up changing insurance companies partway through the gauntlet of surgeries, which adds another layer of frustration. Not because the insurance companies aren’t covering things, but because the doctors (and anesthesia places, which are separate) bill the wrong insurance company every single time.

Anyway. I think we’re no longer in legal trouble. It cost $1,100 dollars today, for something that was supposedly fully covered. But whatever. At least we don’t have to go to court. SIGH.

Wow, what a day.

Big step forward for Donna, literally and figuratively today. Her cast came off, and she’s in a walking boot now. She can’t walk or put any weight on it yet, but it means she can start physical therapy tomorrow. Unfortunately, since this was a repair of a rupture immediately following a reconstruction of the same Achilles’ tendon — it’s going to be a very long road. Her foot is currently pointed like a ballerina, and she has almost zero mobility with her ankle. Physical therapy will be months and months of slow, painful elongating of her still-healing tendon and emaciated calf muscle.

But the cast is off, and that’s forward momentum, however small.

To add insult to injury, we’re having a winter storm today. The wind was so strong this morning, it completely destroyed the wooden gate to the backyard. Since Donna still needs to use the ramp and go into the back door, that means I had to build a new functional gate instead of just sealing off the opening until summer. And since the dogs go in the backyard, I couldn’t just leave it open either. So with 35MPH winds, and pelting lake effect snow, I was out in the yard making a gate out of scrap wood and an old broken baby gate. To be honest, it turned out better than I expected! (don’t mind the air conditioner on the patio — I had to make room in the shed to get out of the wind for a few minutes)

Yes, the gate is held shut with a bungie cord, and it’s re-using the hinge from the broken gate. But it opens and closes. Plus with the hollow center, it doesn’t act like a sail in the wind. (The other gate was a privacy-fence style 6 foot tall monster that was begging for the wind to tear it down)

Did I get work done? Sigh. No. Tomorrow is a new day though, and looking backward doesn’t help anyone. Or something encouraging like that.

Our youngest, Lizzie, made it through the interviewing gauntlet for a job a local art center. It’s a pretty big deal, as it’s a, “career type” job with a salary and benefits. It’s a big deal for Donna and me too, because Lizzie is the last of our children who didn’t have a clear path to health insurance once she’s too old to be on ours. That seems silly, but knowing your adult children have healthcare is really, really comforting.

She didn’t get the official job offer yet, but once she passes a background check and some personality tests, they’ll give her the official offer. I understand the need to dot all the t’s and cross all the eyes before extending the official job offer, but it does mean a weird sort of limbo state. She’s been very up front with her current employer (she manages a retail store now), but without the official offer, it’s awkward to plan for her transition date. Yet, the current employer would really like to know a schedule. I’m sure it will work out, but the anxiety about, “leaving well” sort of tempers the excitement about the new position.

ANYWAY, thanks to the hours spent at the orthodontist yesterday, I didn’t make any progress on my fresh start with my own job. But today is a new day, and once I’m done procrastinating by writing this journal entry — I can get busy on the next thing. (Which… is probably cleaning my office? I mean, GETTING TO WORK!)

I’m getting BRACES.

BRACES.

I mean, I know I had an appointment with the orthodontist, and braces are their bread and butter — but I’ve had perfectly straight teeth my entire life. It was just an injury and the misalignment of my bottom front teeth. I figured it would be an easy fix with Invisalign.

It turns out, I’m not eligible for Invisalign, because I wear a bite splint at night due to grinding my teeth. So I have to get braces. BRACES!?!?!?!

The ironic twist is that I only went into the orthodontist because when I recently got the bite splint, my tongue apparently misses cozying up to my top teeth at night. So it plays with my bottom teeth now. And since my bottom teeth are crooked due to the ice cream incident, it’s sharp down there. So now, because of the bite splint, my tongue just fiddles with my bottom teeth while I sleep all night, and basically flays itself open. And because of that, I wanted to get those teeth straightened. (Otherwise I’d just have left them alone, slightly crooked teeth don’t really bother me all that much)

And since I wear a bite splint (which is what started this whole thing), I have to get traditional metal braces. Thankfully, it’s just on my bottom teeth, but still.

WHAT ABOUT PROM!?!?!?

Tomorrow is an oddly nerve-racking day for me. It’s my, “new start” with regard to working at CBT Nuggets, where I can focus more time on doing my actual job. But also tomorrow I go to the orthodontist to start the process of getting my bottom front teeth fixed.

About 5 or 6 years ago, we were on vacation in Gatlinburg, TN. I was eating some ice cream of all things, and somehow while smooshing the ice cream around in my mouth, my top and bottom teeth collided in a crazy horrible crunching, tearing sounding incident. It hurt BAD. We were on vacation, and since none of my teeth were cracked, I just sorta moved on with my day. By the time we got home, my teeth were a bit tender, but they seemed to be OK.

At some point, however, my front bottom teeth started to shift. Now, they sorta overlap one behind the other right in the middle. My dentist said I must have torn something during the injury, and the swelling must have pushed them out of alignment. Then they healed up, and now they are… wrong.

The hope is, that since they were perfectly straight for the bulk of my adult life, something like Invisalign might put them back in place. Right now, the tooth that slipped behind is pretty sharp on my tongue, and I don’t like the way it looks as well. I also hope that since the correction is fairly localized, and seemingly minor, the cost and length of time it takes will both be reasonably low. Tomorrow I’ll find out. Hopefully.

The stress of my last job ending and needing to do well at the new job, along with Donna’s surgeries and recovery, etc., etc., has also made my face think what I really need in my life is a few pimples. Because nothing says, “almost 50 year old adult” quite like multiple pimples on your face.

Sigh.