Another Time-Wasting Moment

One hundred, ninety-nine, ninety-eight, ninety-seven, ninety-six, ninety-five, ninety-four, ninety-three, ninety-two, ninety-one, ninety, eighty-nine, eighty-eight, eighty-seven, eighty-six, eighty-five, eighty-four, eighty-three, eighty-two, eighty-one, eighty, seventy-nine, seventy-eight, seventy-seven, seventy-six, seventy-five, seventy-four, seventy-three, seventy-two, seventy-one, seventy-, sixty-nine, sixty-eight, sixty-seven, sixty-six, sixty-five, sixty-four, sixty-three, sixty-two, sixty-one, sixty, fifty-nine, fifty-eight, fifty-seven, fifty-six, fifty-five, fifty-four, fifty-three, fifty-two, fifty-one, fifty, forty-nine, forty-eight, forty-seven, forty-six, forty-five, forty-four, forty-three, forty-two, forty-one, forty, thirty-nine, thirty-eight, thirty-seven, thirty-six, thirty-five, thirty-four, thirty-three, thirty-two, thirty-one, thirty, twenty-nine, twenty-eight, twenty-seven, twenty-six, twenty-five, twenty-four, twenty-three, twenty-two, twenty-one, twenty, nineteen, eighteen, seventeen, sixteen, fifteen, fourteen, thirteen, twelve, eleven, ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one.

The preceeding is copyrighted, and may not be reproduced without the written permission of ... of ... of someone who wants to be bothered to give written permission for such things. Bla.

Melatonin

Back in 1999, I was in trouble. My sleeping pattern was a shambles, and it was in danger of costing me my job. Basically, I'd find myself unable to stay awake past, say, 8:00 or 8:30, so I'd go to bed, then I'd wake up at around midnight or, if I was lucky, maybe 1:00 or 2:00 AM. I wouldn't be able to get back to sleep for the rest of the night, then that day at work I'd be struggling mightily to stay awake.

By early summer, I was pretty much in a panic. the situation was intolerable. It was then that I started thinking about Melatonin.

Melatonin is a hormone the body produces in response to light, or more accurately, the absence of light. The body sees that it's dark, and says, "Oh, no light. Okay, time to go to bed." So it creates Melatonin, the Melatonin induces natural sleep, and voila, things are as they should be.

Now bring blindness into the picture. And not the standard blindness, which includes a degree of light perception, I mean total blindness. In my case, I have prosthetic eyes. That's about as total as you can get. And for the record, I do not see black. See a commentary I wrote some years ago called Blindness in Perspective for some thoughts on this and other things.

But back to the Melatonin. It occurred to me that if my body has no way of processing light or its absence, then my Melatonin-manufacturing ability was probably fairly screwed up as well. So I determined to buy some Melatonin, as I was ready to try anything at this point.

At the time, Melatonin was not available in Canada. You were perfectly free to order it by mail, provided you limited yourself in terms of amount, and so this is what I did.

The results were astounding, the change literally being overnight. In no time I was sleeping through the night, which enabled me to function during the day. I was back on an even keel, and that aspect of the worst year of my life heretofore was at least dealt with.

Why bring up this whole sorry topic? Last night I took some Melatonin again. Blissful slumber was mine. The stuff makes you dream a lot, but if all the dreams are as pleasant as mine were last night, noooooooooooooo problem.

Trying to Stay Level-Headed

I can assume nothing. My dad subscribed to the old definition of assume: making an ass out of u and me. It was one of his favorite sayings, and there's a lot to it.

I have not been offered the job. All that's happened is that I know my resume has been accepted. That guarantees nothing. I know I strongly meet the qualifications for the position. But while I can't think of who might be better qualified at this point in close proximity, that doesn't mean there isn't someone who is. And who knows? They might go further afield looking for someone whom they feel would be better-suited for the position than I am. All very real, very legitimate possibilities.

So while I taste the job, almost have it in my grasp, I can assume nothing, until and unless I have a signed contract, or whatever it is they give you, to show for it. Then, I'll be on my knees thanking God for providing. And if I don't get the position? Then I'll be praying for the wherewithal to be gracious and accept my not getting the job. Graciousness. Is that one of my strong points? do I have any strong points? Am I worthy of any of the goals I've set for myself in life at this moment - there are a few - and will I achieve those goals? Assume nothing, Bruce. You're not so good as to be able to waltz in and just assume you'll get the job, or whatever else, that you've got your heart set on. Maybe you've got as good a shot as anyone, maybe you don't, but don't ever, ever get to the point where you're somehow thinking you're better than anyone else, or more entitled, or more worthy. Over-confidence leads to pride, and pride inevitably comes before the fall. Pride killed empires, emperors, kings and queens; it's turned friends away, leaving people alone. Now there's an unhappy thought, winding up alone like my ex-fiancee, Tammy, who drove everyone away, wound up dead for a week before anyone found her. What kind of an existence must that have been for her?

So where and how does one draw the line between a healthy dose of self-confidence and foolish pride that leads to destruction? There's the big question. I just wish I had a big answer to go with it.

there are things in life I want, some desperately. The job is one of these. If I play my cards right, the possibilities are there. But if I don't, well ... it's all happened before, and could all happen again. But maybe, just maybe, my time has arrived.

Strange TV's

Here's a weird one. My roommate walks in and says hey, it looks as though my TV just died. Hmmm, I say, contemplatively. I check to see if everything's properly plugged in. It is. So I agree that it does indeed look as though Rod's TV has died.

So I leave. Suddenly, out of the blue, about, maybe, fifteen minutes later, the TV switches on by itself.

This Coast to Coast AM moment brought to you by the Art Bell Retirement Shows Collectors Series, to be released in about thirty years, containing all 100 of Art's final retirement shows in one, easy-to-lug trunk.