And it was really hard working today for some reason or another... I actually know the reason, and I'll let you know too, a little later.

It was really hard to concentrate.

I, the guy who is so proud of his vein-sticking skills, didn't hit a single vein on my first attempt. One I had to let someone else do, the very heighth of humility.

I was flaky, that's the best word that I have.

It's like all that dope from Tuesday's procedure is still there, y'know? I just can't get my head around anthing.

I can't even get into the keyboard tonight, it's that bad.

And I'm not going to write my silly haiku until I'm done with this entry, if at all. Which reminds me, I need to answer an e-mail that I got about that. Be right back....

The question was what makes a haiku a haiku, and my answer was "Let's see, a haiku is simple a thought expressed in three lines, the first has five syllables, the second seven and the last five. That's about all the rules that there are, really. The whole idea is to be succinct, or however the hell you spell that. To do it well, I've heard, you have to be able to think like that. And practicing is supposed to make you think."

Beating more around the bush here... I've got a date for the pacemaker/defibrillator; it's next Wednesday. My goal is supposed to be staying alive until then, and I'm gonna do my damnedest to do that.

After I talked to the nurse in the office, I happened to run into Dr Katz, the guy who will be doing the procedure. Very informative, he was. He cited an AMA report that just came out on Monday, in fact.

I asked him if the pacer (I shall simply refer to it as that in the future, although that's only a fraction of what it actually does) will help with the ejection fraction. He said no, it won't. He told me that the only reason that they were putting it in was to keep me alive so that they could fix me if I needed it.

It seems that the mortality rate of guys (and it is mostly guys) with my condition (which I really don't know a name for yet) is pretty high if they just rely on drugs. One of the things that he said was that, heh, if you're dead when you come in to the ER, we really can't help you any.

Anyway, I got off work on time, and then Karen and Kim and I went out to a financial seminar and a free supper. The free supper was damned good, and the speakers were fascinating. Finance, and money in general, are not something that I'm good at, and these guys really sold themselves and their plan.

And I came home and tried playing the keyboard, and I'm still flakey. Still no concentration.

So, cut to the chase. Whatever the hell that means, where did that come from, anyway? O'sorry, more beating around the bush.

I never got depressed when I had my first coronary.

I never got depressed when I had my second coronary.

I never got depressed when I had my third coronary.

Well, fuck, I'm depressed now.

I've had teenaged angst, and middle-aged angst, and I'm really not over either one yet, and still, I have to add a third, mortal angst. That was partially present in the first two, but it really wasn't center stage.

Well, it is now.

I'm gonna die, and it's my heart that's gonna kill me.

And it's probably not that far away.

And I'm pretty pissed about that.

And yes, a good part of that is my own damned fault. I know that, I accept that responsibility.

And the simple fact is that I've lived a pretty damned good life. There has been a lot more happiness in my life than I've deserved, a lot more wonderful people, a lot more love.

I'm really not ready for this, and I probably never will be.

And that is what is occupying my mind right now.

And I'm already pretty tired of it.

I really can't Pollyanna forever.

And I'm really glad that I have this place, right here, that I can talk about it.

And yes, I'm still taking my anti-depressant pills... they're not made for this.

And no, Jesus is not the answer.

The answer is immortality.

One of the nice things about atheism is that I don't have to worry about going to heaven. Or hell, which would be infinitely more interesting. Sometimes I think that I'm ready for eternal rest, which means just that.

Bacause I'm just so fucking tired lately, So tired.

And it will never get any better.

But I am really not ready to give up yet, no, I'm not.

But I am ready to go to bed.