Storm Log: Daily Entries, 1

Storm Log Notice: Entries are added here as the storm unfolds.

Storm Log Archive

April 30, 2026 – May 14, 2026

04/30/26

Worked at the warehouse and completed several delivery runs. Took time to update my car sticker, then returned and continued working.

Pauline and her sister came by to pick up another order. I realized I may have met her sister years ago—it’s just now coming back to me after not seeing her for so long.

Gathered some flowers and contacted a nearby nursing home (different from the usual one). Spoke with the activities coordinator, Connie—very kind on the phone and even more so in person. Dropped off a large batch of flowers. Didn’t have time to prep them (no bouquets or cleanup), but I cut the stems to help. Staff said they would handle the rest. Connie also took some photos of me while I was there—her idea, not mine.

After work, went to orientation for my new evening job. Finished around 7 PM.

Brought some flowers with me to orientation so they wouldn’t overheat in the car—kept them in a break room on another floor. Afterward, picked them up and decided to give them to someone special.

Went to visit my new friend, Margarita Rios (89), at the nursing home in Portland. Gave her the flowers and spent time talking. She shared stories from her life, I shared some from mine, and she offered advice. Meaningful visit.

Headed home to rest. Shared everything with my dad—he made me spam and eggs with a side of refried beans. Good meal, didn’t have to go out

05/01/26

Going into work. Still carrying a lot. Trying.

Handled bills—paid off the barn yesterday. Did a couple of runs for the warehouse.

Was told I’ll need to stay Sunday to assist with Mother’s Day orders. That hurts.

Got pollo asado from El Gavilan Pollero—been craving it. Saved some for tomorrow.

Brought my dad tacos for dinner. Went straight to bed after.

Didn’t see my cat—too mentally, emotionally, physically exhausted. Hoping he’s okay.

House still not in a good state to let him roam (spraying). Thinking about building him a larger outdoor enclosure—his own protected space where I can still spend time with him.

Missed a friend’s text checking on me. Saw it later.

Overall felt like an insignificant day. Not sure how I’m handling everything—just trying.

Some moments I want it all to end, but I’m still holding on for my loved ones, even the ones at a distance.

Staying in prayer.

05/02/26

Up around 5 a.m. Showered. Headed to Corpus to start Lyft runs. Ran into an issue—inspection sticker hadn’t been updated in the app. Waited, then started driving around 7 a.m.

Early rides: one of the first few passengers had a very strong odor. Long trip. Considered ending it early but stuck it out. Rolled the windows down and played it off. Definitely had to work for that fare.

Stopped by Dollar Tree around 9 a.m. to get supplies to clean the car and freshen it up. Checked under the hood—coolant was very low, almost dry. Topped it off with what I had in the trunk.

While doing that, a vagrant approached me from behind asking to use my phone. Told him no. He got aggressive and started cursing. Addressed it briefly. Security stepped in and removed him. No further issues.

Scheduled today:

• 11:00 a.m. — Chiropractic appointment with Dr. Dulak
• 12:00 p.m. — Massage with Barry (deep tissue—has been helping my back)

This combination—Dr. Dulak and massage with Barry—has proven over time to help with my back issues. Based on experience, this is the plan I’m sticking with going forward.

Taking care of my physical health. That part feels good.

Still dealing with things in life I wish were better. Working on affirmations—trying to internalize them and stay positive.

My plan was to give these beautiful flowers to someone I love and care about deeply, but I fumbled the moment, and it never came together.

Around 2:00 p.m., on the way to see my brother Jeremy. Still had chrysanthemums in the car from earlier. Didn’t feel right keeping them in the car all day. Considered giving them to him, but given his condition, he likely wouldn’t be able to appreciate them.

Passed a hospice, made a U-turn, and went inside. Asked if anyone could use flowers. A nurse guided me to a room where a family appeared to be in what could have been final moments with a loved one.

Placed the flowers beside the patient. Spoke with a man in the room—shook his hand, told him to stay in prayer. He held onto my hand for a moment. Stayed there until he was ready to let go.

Arrived at Jeremy’s group home. Had difficulty getting inside—another resident was confused and repeatedly said Jeremy wasn’t there and was in the hospital. Contacted the house manager (Melinda) to confirm. Jeremy was not present—likely out with staff.

Was able to inform the house manager about Jeremy’s burial arrangement (shared plot with my brother Daniel, passed 1995). Did not get to see Jeremy. Leaving the residence.

Rest of the day was open.

Created a structured workout plan focused on building strength safely, incorporating machines, stabilizer work, and controlled movements to support my goals without risking re-injury.

Unexpected emotional spike today. Got pulled off center by something unresolved and found myself trying to make sense of it in real time.

Early evening included a minor police stop—verbal warning, no ticket. Reminder to slow down and stay present.

Spent the rest of the night trying to reset. Body settled quicker than the mind. Noticed myself slipping into a loop—looking for clarity where there wasn’t enough information to have it.

Tested a few things to see if they were me—they weren’t (cigarettes, alcohol, etc). Caught it early and corrected course. That was the difference tonight. I'm still the guy who quit in November.

Key takeaways:

• Not everything can be solved in the moment
• Forcing answers creates more noise
• Distraction doesn’t equal resolution
• I know who I am—I don’t need to go looking for it

Ended up going home around midnight. Decided not to continue with Lyft. Need to be up for the warehouse in the morning. Also have a meeting scheduled with the engineer at the recording studio for my dark pop project.

End of the day: shaken, not lost. Adjusted, recalibrated, and back in control.

05/03/26

Started the day already carrying a lot.

Stopped at Circle K before work. Not planned—place we both frequent. There was a chance of running into someone I’ve been wanting to reconnect with. Didn’t expect it that early, but it happened—they were there.

That shifted everything.

They acknowledged the space I had been giving. Said they noticed. Being there in front of them felt good, but also off. Not normal.

They brought it to my attention that they had seen me around the area the day before. That was when I had thought about bringing flowers. The moment wasn’t right, so I didn’t do it. Stayed present instead and didn’t push, which made the situation feel awkward. The flowers were never given to them. They ended up going somewhere else—to a hospice patient. Still wish I could have given them. They were very beautiful. Chrysanthemums.

We talked. Didn’t go bad, didn’t go great. Landed in that in-between space again. Not comfortable, not resolved.

Left with some laughter, but nothing settled. Carried that into the rest of the day.

Work was rough. Heavy, chaotic, constant pressure. No real moment to breathe. Pushed through it, but it wasn’t easy.

After work:

• ~2:00 p.m. — Chiropractic
• ~2:30 p.m. — Massage

Trying to reset physically.

Around 3:00 p.m., stopped by to see Jay, my friend who owns a Mexican restaurant downtown.

Something was off immediately. He looked shaken. Told me he fell 12 feet off a ladder. Landed on his face. Chipped multiple teeth. Damage to lumbar and cervical spine. Medical costs, including surgeries, already in the hundreds of thousands.

Still there in the kitchen working. One hand wrapped, still cooking.

Said he didn’t think he was going to make it when it happened. Had to climb back up to get to his phone and call for help. Called his family before the ambulance came.

Now dealing with pain, bills, and trying to keep the business running.

That shifted perspective.

Let him know I’m there for him. Will help whenever I can, no pay. Just showing up. Suggested ice, follow through with MRI, consider chiropractic after depending on results.

Left carrying more.

Headed to the gym to shower and reset before meeting with Mike at Metropolis Recording Studio.

Met with Mike and went through the project song by song. Received strong feedback across the board—cadence, melodies, vocal delivery, production, lyrical content. From an engineering standpoint, overall project was a thumbs up.

Plan is to record the first song within the next 1–2 weeks once production is finalized. After that, will begin recording for the EP.

Project direction: dark but upbeat. Reflects this period of life after losing my mother. Serves as an outlet to process and release, while also honoring her.

Noticed a gap where that part of my life used to just happen—connection still there, just not in place.

End of entry: Heavy day across the board.

05/04/26

Woke up around 5 a.m. and headed to work. Didn’t get a chance to eat anything.

The inconsistencies with the warehouse job had already been upsetting me. I was told last minute on Friday, while leaving, that I needed to come in Sunday. So Monday, May 4th, already felt like a Tuesday, and now I was there an hour and a half earlier than I was originally told my schedule would be.

I was never supposed to be a warehouse worker. I was hired as a driver. When I originally asked if there was anything else involved outside of driving, they told me no.

That has not been the case.

Driving into work, I saw the highway signs saying:
“May the 4th be with you. Stay safe.”

Should’ve been a good day.

So far, it wasn’t.

Started the morning already running behind because both of the other drivers were still occupying the loading bays. Had to wait for them to move their trucks before I could even begin loading.

Finally got loaded up and rushed to complete all of my deliveries.

At one of the stops, a shop owner demanded that I open the boxes for her. Since that wasn’t standard protocol, I called the warehouse to verify. They informed me that this particular client was eccentric and that they usually tried to accommodate her.

So I went back inside and helped open the boxes.

I informed her that this was a one-time courtesy and that she would need to open her own boxes moving forward. At that point I was essentially acting as an employee for her without pay.

She then mentioned that her father had recently passed away. I offered condolences and informed her that my mother had recently passed as well. I still honestly didn’t understand what any of that had to do with opening boxes.

Afterward, she stated that she wanted the driver willing to open her boxes to become her permanent delivery driver. I called the warehouse and documented the request. She also requested that future orders not be delivered in boxes at all.

Which left me thinking:
So what exactly are we supposed to do—carry every individual item in our hands?

Ludicrous.

Continued the rest of the route and completed all remaining deliveries in a very unorthodox way. Because I had started so late, many of the loading docks at the remaining stops were no longer responding or available, so I had to improvise and adapt to complete everything.

And I did.

Returned to the warehouse barely in time for the next scheduled delivery run, which fortunately only consisted of one stop. Honestly, I was grateful just to get back out of that place again.

Received a phone call from my counselor informing me that I had missed my counseling appointment. I explained that I had been working and that it completely slipped my mind. Need to reschedule.

Left work at 4 p.m., which was my scheduled time.

I was also supposed to report to the other new job at 5 p.m.

Instead, I went in person and explained that it wasn’t going to work out for me. I apologized and handled it respectfully face-to-face rather than disappearing or simply not showing up.

I left the door open on good terms.

They told me I would still be rehirable in the future and expressed that they hoped I would eventually return.

After that, things mentally started spiraling downward.

Spent the rest of the evening roaming around aimlessly. Chain-smoking. Hurt. Lost.

I’m not doing well right now.

And honestly, I really wish I hadn’t missed my counseling session.

05/05/26

Yesterday was heavy, but there were still moments of humanity in it.

I officially walked away from the warehouse job after ongoing inconsistency with scheduling, inconsistency with the actual role I was hired for, and disrespect from a couple of people there.

I woke up to a text message stating that I shouldn’t have left at 4 p.m. and that I should have waited to see what else needed to be done. At this point, the schedule changes had become excessive. I already had another job I was expected to report to directly afterward.

If I’m scheduled from a specific start time to a specific end time, then that is my schedule—especially considering I was hired through a staffing agency. That’s contractual. I had already accommodated them by coming in on a last-minute Sunday shift, which caused me to cancel both church and my grief counseling.

I’m not a pushover, and I’m not going to stay in an environment where basic respect, communication, and consistency are missing. I spoke to the warehouse boss on the way out, thanked him for the opportunity, and removed myself from that which does not align.

The important part is this:

I removed myself from a bad fit, and I’m already replacing it with a better one—fast.

I spent part of the day contacting staffing agencies, filling out paperwork, uploading documents, and following leads for better opportunities. I also purchased an outfit for an upcoming job interview.

Emotionally, my mind was still heavily occupied with someone I care deeply about. There’s still confusion there, concern there, grief there. I spent a lot of time reflecting on relationship patterns, shutdown cycles, emotional distance, and trying to understand how things escalated this far.

Later in the day, I compensated my friend Redoune for helping install the hitch on my loved one’s SUV. I got to see his mother too. Hugs all around. They invited me and my father to come have dinner with them sometime soon.

At one point during the afternoon, I stopped at a Middle Eastern restaurant hoping to get lamb shank, but ended up with chicken biryani instead. While there, I overheard a man named John talking about visceral fat. Somehow that turned into a really solid conversation. He’s an arm wrestler, and we ended up talking for a while. Good conversation. Good meeting good people.

Later that evening, I had a small crossing of paths with a vagrant named Jacob at a car wash while I was organizing everything inside my vehicle. Oddly enough, it turned into a much better interaction than expected. Just another reminder that even difficult days still contain human moments.

By the end of the night, I was emotionally exhausted, mentally overloaded, still grieving the loss of my mother with Mother’s Day approaching, while also carrying the weight of a personal situation, still processing everything, but also recognizing that life keeps moving whether we’re ready for it or not.

05/06/26

Woke up, took a shower, got my clothes ready that I had purchased the day prior for my interview. I had them in my car already.

Checked my blood glucose: 112. Things have been stable in the 110s. Metabolic recalibration currently in progress, so that was a good sign. Also officially down two pant sizes now, which feels encouraging. Need to stay on top of the next phase soon—weightlifting, boxing drills, fighting training, and continuing to build muscle to help with insulin regulation and overall health.

Spent most of the day around Corpus waiting to see whether I would be called in for an interview for the leasing agent position I’m currently up for.

Part of the challenge today was trying to find somewhere to iron my clothes. Ended up realizing I may just need to keep an ironing board and iron in the car whenever I’m spending extended time around town. Stopped at multiple Goodwills and thrift shops looking for a cheap used iron and found absolutely nothing. Apparently people don’t donate irons anymore.

While visiting Any Lab Test Now to check my A1C, I received a phone call from another company interested in hiring me. Interview scheduled for tomorrow at 10:30 a.m. My previous A1C was done March 7th, so I should have updated results tomorrow as well.

Production for the first song at Metropolis Recording Studio is officially underway.

Around noon, I finally got a chance to eat. Stopped at one of my favorite spots and ordered beef fajitas with vegetables—zucchini, mushrooms, and I think eggplant. Added sour cream and shredded cheddar cheese. Left the tortillas aside and brought them home for my father later.

Eventually, after continuing to follow up with the staffing agency regarding the leasing position, I stopped at the mall and got a massage. Afterward, I went to Dr. Dulak for an adjustment, then returned to the mall for another massage so my muscles could fully relax after the adjustment. Honestly, physically, I feel really good right now.

On the way out, I stopped at El Gavilan Pollero, forgetting they’re closed Wednesdays and Thursdays. Ended up going to another pollo asado spot nearby instead. Not as good, but it worked. Picked up enough food for both me and my dad and headed home.

Been home since around 6 or 7. Brought food home for my father. Haven’t checked on Monkey yet, but I will soon. Also didn’t have time to buy food for the outdoor cats, which bothers me. They had food earlier, but they’ll probably have to wait until tomorrow.

Emotionally exhausted. Mentally overloaded. Physically drained.

Got a call from my friend Chris. Explained everything that’s been going on lately. He was pretty taken aback by everything but genuinely cared. We talked for a few minutes.

Earlier in the day, my dad called me while I was on my way to get lunch. He told me he missed my mother, missed his mother, and missed me. I was crying on the phone with him. Told him I missed her too.

This morning, I woke up from a dream involving my mother. In the dream, she looked at me and asked, “Am I gone?”

I remember looking at her confused, almost shocked by the question. Then I yelled, “Never!”

That’s what woke me up. I woke myself up yelling it.

I shared the dream with my father afterward.

Those little moments right before waking up, or in-between being asleep and awake, are usually when messages seem to come through the strongest for me. That’s why I pay attention to them. That’s why I act on them.

That’s also why I ran to check on someone important to me a few days ago after having a bad dream involving them. I followed my gut. Unfortunately, that morning and that day didn’t end well afterward, and things have just felt strange ever since.

But I’m never going to stop listening to that instinct in me. I’m never going to stop paying attention to my dreams, my gut feelings, or the things that feel spiritually or emotionally significant. Even if I end up wrong sometimes, I would rather check than ignore it.

I don’t regret acting on what feels right.

Part of that comes from what happened with Little Paw.

He wasn’t technically our cat—he was an outdoor cat—but to us, Little Paw was family. And before we lost him, there was a moment where I heard him that morning and brushed it off like it may have just been part of a dream or something in-between sleep and waking.

I should have acted.

That stays with me.

So now, if I feel something strongly enough, I’m going to check. I’m going to make sure. I’m not going to ignore those moments anymore and risk losing something important on my watch again.

Recently, someone compared me to Jack from Titanic. I understood exactly what they meant by that comparison. What I don’t understand is how someone can recognize that kind of loyalty, care, sacrifice, or presence in a person and still choose to treat them poorly despite knowing it’s genuine.

That part still confuses me.

Right now, everything just feels heavy. Still grieving my mother with Mother’s Day approaching. Still carrying the weight of unresolved personal situations. Some patterns and behaviors have begun to feel emotionally damaging over time, and I’m still trying to process all of it while life keeps moving forward anyway.

I’m also a little disappointed in myself because between yesterday and today, I smoked around two and a half packs of cigarettes combined. Considering I had quit back in November, it feels like a relapse.

But I’m correcting that now.

No more smoking moving forward.

The nicotine hit me extremely hard physically. My jaw was clenching most of the day, my shoulders were tight, and my body just felt overstimulated and tense in a really uncomfortable way.

I took one diazepam in the morning after waking up, another around midday, and another tonight before bed. At this point, I finally feel calm physically again. Relaxed. Not carrying all that tension in my muscles anymore.

Going to have to drink a lot of water and flush all this nicotine back out of my system.

If only emotional pain worked that way too.

Wish it was as easy to flush things out of the heart as it is the body sometimes.

Anyway, I think that’s all I have left for tonight.

05/07/26

Today was unexpectedly full.

It started with responsibility.

I had my Microsoft Teams interview for the inbound call center position at 10:30 a.m., using a private study room at the Portland library so I could handle it professionally and without interruption.

The interview went well.

They said I should hear back within 24 to 48 hours, and if offered, the position would begin July 8th.

At the same time, the leasing agent opportunity is still in motion.

If that comes through first, I may pursue it, evaluate the environment, and determine whether it aligns before making longer-term decisions.

Earlier in the day, I also stayed in communication with the staffing agency regarding the leasing role.

They responded positively to my follow-up and didn’t seem bothered by my diligence.

That felt like a good sign.

Around 10 a.m., my fasting blood glucose was approximately 110.

That continues to show encouraging progress compared to where I started.

Around midday, I stopped by the staffing agency tied to the warehouse/driver position to confirm my paycheck situation.

Since direct deposit was never set up, I was informed that my check would be available in person tomorrow, including overtime hours, with one final smaller check coming the following Friday to close that chapter completely.

From roughly 1 to 2 p.m., I spent time at the bank solving a real-world problem for my father.

The mail has become unreliable.

Our mailbox has been left unsecured at times.

That’s not acceptable when paychecks are involved.

So I worked out a better solution with his employer.

Because I had previously established an alternate checking account for him at a bank with a branch in the same city where his paycheck originates, his employer will now be able to manually deposit his paycheck directly there.

No postal delays. No mailbox risk. No uncertainty.

Problem solved.

After leaving the bank, what I expected to be a normal transition in the day became something much deeper.

I visited Pastor McKinley Darden — Mr. Mac.

Someone I had not seen in over a decade.

When I knocked on his door, he looked genuinely shocked.

Like he had seen a ghost.

Then immediately welcomed me with a hug and invited me inside.

I explained that I had been receiving what felt like repeated signs pointing me toward seeing him.

My friend Chris had asked about him recently.

Our mutual friend Pauline unexpectedly brought him up not long ago in a completely random place.

Then yesterday, while helping a woman at my chiropractor’s office use my phone, I learned her name was Charlotte Darden.

I asked if she was related to Mr. Mac.

She said no, but that she knew him well from church.

At that point, it felt like too many references to ignore.

So I went.

What followed was nearly three hours of catching up, testimony, faith, healing, and reconnection.

I was able to tell him about the woman we once helped through severe addiction years ago.

How she ultimately got sober.

Stayed sober.

Regained her children.

Maintained stability.

And later thanked me for staying in the fight with her when life was dark.

That mattered.

Deeply.

We talked about God.

Trials.

Grief.

Shutdown seasons.

Rebuilding.

Endurance.

I shared my recent books with him, especially The Book of Carlos, and gifted him the audiobook.

We weren’t able to fully get Audible working on his phone because of password issues, but he heard enough to be encouraged.

Then we talked about the flower mission.

I explained how bringing flowers to nursing homes, hospices, and people who may be lonely or forgotten has become meaningful to me.

Mr. Mac immediately grabbed a stack of my Life Is a Storm cards and said he would begin speaking with florists to help support the mission.

We both agreed:

This is an assignment from God.

Before I left, we prayed.

Not casually.

Specifically.

Over loved ones.

Over homes carrying burdens.

Over healing.

Over emotional struggles.

Over God entering places where people are hurting.

We prayed over a loved one currently in turmoil and her family as well.

And when the prayer ended, we both said the same thing:

“It’s done.
It’s done.
Let the prayer work.
Let God work.
Let Him do His thing.
Just have faith.”

That mattered.

After leaving Mr. Mac’s house, I stopped by my friend Frank’s mechanic shop just before closing.

We talked about life.

Grief.

Mother’s Day approaching.

Missing our mothers.

He prayed over me too.

Anointed my forehead with oil.

Encouraged me to remain strong in faith.

Then he told me a story about a refrigerator.

Years ago, his refrigerator was failing.

He didn’t have the money to repair or replace it.

So he prayed over it.

Believed.

Waited.

Eventually it started working again.

Not just working.

Working better than before.

It was a gradual improvement, so I believe that patience along with faith were key.

It lasted for years.

Then he passed it on to a relative who also used it for years.

His point was simple:

Have faith.

By then, the theme of the day was obvious.

Faith.

Connection.

Purpose.

Reassurance.

Assignment.

Around 5:15 p.m., I stopped at Lotus Indian Cuisine.

I ordered: lamb tikka masala, a samosa with chutney, cheese naan, and what I believed was an innocent ginger ale.

Important note:

The ginger committed fraud tonight.

Because in my mind:

clear drink + ginger = vaguely healthy sparkling water energy.

Reality?

Soda.

Loaded with sugar.

I genuinely had no idea.

That lesson came later.

Around 7:20 p.m., after noticing blurred distance vision, I checked my blood glucose.

228.

That explained a lot.

Apparently:

long fasting
+
samosa
+
cheese naan
+
tikka masala
+
surprise sugar bomb ginger ale
=
metabolic ambush.

Around 9:20 p.m., while trying to sort out what was happening, I was stopped by police because I had apparently been swerving slightly while driving.

I explained honestly that my blood sugar had spiked, my vision had blurred, and I genuinely did not realize how affected I was.

Thankfully, the officer let it go.

But it was a serious wake-up call.

I then went to my father’s work, explained what happened, and checked in with him while he sat in the car with me during his break.

While sitting there, I reviewed my newly released lab results.

And that became one of the biggest victories of the day.

Back in March, during the health scare where I feared I might be heading toward diabetic ketoacidosis, my A1C came back at 11.9.

Today’s result?

6.9.

Massive.

Through consistency.

Discipline.

Intentional eating changes.

Awareness.

Persistence.

Roughly two months.

11.9 to 6.9.

That is undeniable progress.

There’s still work to do.

But that trajectory is real.

My personal goal now is continuing toward non-diabetic range.

While we sat there, my father also shared a dream about my mother.

In the dream, they were both young.

He was trying to reach her.

Trying to pick her up.

But there was an angry man.

Hostility.

A barrier.

Something preventing him from getting to her.

That landed heavily.

We are both still grieving.

Later, I swapped vehicles with him.

Took his car.

Washed it inside and out.

Cleaned the windows.

Detailed what I could.

Installed a new windshield wiper blade.

So tomorrow, he’ll come out to a refreshed car.

A quiet act of love.

By 12:23 a.m., I checked my glucose again.

128.

Not fully ideal.

But significantly improved from 228.

That told me my body was actively stabilizing rather than staying stuck elevated.

And my vision had fully returned to normal.

Final lesson:

Indian food isn’t banned.

But ginger ale is a liar.

And that exact combination after fasting is not my friend.

Today started with job uncertainty and emotional weight.

It became a day of:

interviews,
problem-solving,
banking logistics,
testimony,
prayer,
friendship,
faith,
service,
grief,
purpose,
a major A1C victory,
and one unforgettable glucose lesson.

A very human day.

05/08/26

Today started around 10:30 this morning when I fully woke up, got showered, got dressed, and stepped into the day. My dad had already been up and moving around before heading out, and eventually I crossed paths with him at the store while he was picking up some hygiene items before work.

When I got there, I caught him trying to reach something high on a shelf by stepping on the lower shelving, which immediately had me stepping in before the whole thing collapsed on him. I told him all he needed to do was back up a few feet so he could actually see what was on the top shelf instead of trying to climb the store like it was a jungle gym. He looked surprised, stepped back, and sure enough, it worked.

Before I left, I joked with him about whether he could finally see clearly through his car windows now, since I had cleaned the car up. He smiled, thanked me, and said it looked really nice. I didn’t do that for recognition. I just wanted him to have something clean and functional.

From there, I headed out to pick up my paycheck from the staffing agency, handled deposits between both banking institutions, and took care of getting my father’s redirected check sorted as well.

At 11:33 a.m., while still fasted, I checked my blood glucose and came in at 102 mg/dL. That was encouraging to see. Metabolic recalibration appears to be underway. Better food choices, cleaner drinks, less nonsense, more intentionality—my body appears to be responding.

Later in the afternoon, around 2:00 p.m., I made my way to a beach park on Shoreline and had my first major meal of the day: half a pollo asado from El Gavilan Pollero with serrano peppers and sparkling water. No sugary drinks. No carb-heavy derailment. Just a clean meal, some peace, and the water.

Around 4:00 p.m., I made it to the gym parking lot with every intention of doing some yoga and stretching, just something quiet and restorative, but I sat there for about fifteen minutes and ultimately decided not to force it. Around 4:15, I left.

After leaving the parking lot and moving through traffic, I thought I saw someone. I wasn’t entirely sure, but it caught my attention for a moment before the road pulled my focus back where it needed to be.

Around 4:30, I pulled into a car wash, and while I was parking, I received the completed production for one of the songs from the dark pop project I’ve been working on from one of my producers, Neisser. After listening through it, I made the decision that this one deserves to be released as a single first.

Now the next phase begins—elevating it even further. One of the musicians I’m working with suggested bringing in additional instrumentation, especially a tenor sax as the primary character, with possible oboe, flute, and other woodwind or horn textures layered in to create the atmosphere I’m chasing. Honestly, I can hear it already.

Sometime between 5:00 and 6:00 p.m., I made it home, went straight to bed, and stayed there for most of the evening.

At 6:34 p.m., I checked my blood glucose again and landed at 113 mg/dL. Still holding within a reasonable range considering I had already eaten earlier. That points toward the system responding to cleaner inputs and better decisions.

The evening became a deep dive into thought—relationship dynamics, human behavior, faith, pain modulation, psychology, emotional patterns, practical realities, metaphysical rabbit trails, and a little woo-woo territory for good measure. One of those nights where conversation can simultaneously sharpen clarity and mentally exhaust you.

Around 11:30 p.m., hunger finally kicked in, so I made a simple late-night meal: eggs, sausage, and some cheese. Protein-heavy, straightforward, and aligned with where I’m trying to keep things.

At some point later, despite earlier deciding against it because gas prices were ridiculous, I briefly reconsidered doing Lyft after all. That idea died quickly when I discovered the cable for my Lyft light was broken, my check engine light was on, and the vehicle clearly had other ideas.

Before calling it a night completely, I decided to take a walk downtown around 1:30 a.m., somewhere in the range of fifteen to twenty minutes.

While walking, I heard a saxophone in the distance.

By the time I got close enough to the musician, whatever he had been playing had already ended. People nearby were calling out requests, asking for different songs, but instead he said something along the lines of, “I’m gonna play something real good. I’m gonna get the fire started tonight.”

Then he started playing a worship song—Holy Ghost Party.

And honestly, that moment hit differently.

I felt God in the atmosphere.

There are moments you don’t really explain. You just recognize them.

That was one of them.

That was enough for me.

I wrapped up the walk, got in the car, and started heading home.

On the way back, DPS pulled me over on the Harbor Bridge because my license plate light was out. Just a warning, thankfully. So tomorrow morning’s first order of business is getting that fixed.

I eventually made it home around 2:30 a.m., came back to bed—the same place I had been earlier—and here I am now.

Today had responsibility.
Movement.
Progress.
Music.
Creative momentum.
Emotional processing.
Spiritual reassurance.
A reminder that recalibration isn’t only physical.

Sometimes the body recalibrates.

Sometimes the mind does.

Sometimes faith does.

And sometimes it all happens at once.

05/09/2026

Woke up around 10:30 a.m. after having eaten relatively late the night before. At 10:38 a.m., I checked my fasting blood glucose, which came in at 105, continuing the trend of significantly improved numbers and ongoing metabolic recalibration. Considering where my A1C and glucose numbers were not long ago, seeing these consistent lower numbers has continued to reinforce that my body is responding to the changes I’ve been making.

After getting myself together and throwing some clothes in the wash, I headed out for what was supposed to be a chiropractor appointment and massage day, but not before the day immediately shifted into vehicle maintenance mode.

While already nearly in Gregory, I remembered the recent DPS warning from the night before regarding my license plate light being out, so I turned around and headed back. I stopped at O’Reilly’s to grab replacement bulbs, and while there, I checked my coolant because something had been nagging at me about a possible issue. Sure enough, the coolant reservoir was dry. That led to purchasing coolant, and while I was at it, I checked my oil and realized I was roughly two quarts low there as well. Not exactly the kind of discovery you want while actively driving around.

Around 11:20 a.m., I stopped by Walmart while my father was on his lunch break and used the parking lot as my makeshift repair station. A YouTube video led me into doing extra unnecessary work removing parts I didn’t even need to touch, but in the end, both license plate bulbs were successfully replaced, so mission accomplished regardless. I left around 11:45 a.m. and resumed my trip toward Corpus.

I arrived at the chiropractor clinic around 12:30 p.m., and while in the waiting area, I found myself strategizing negotiations with one of the musicians I’m working with regarding horn and woodwind instrumentation for the single I’m currently developing. The possibility of getting into the studio this month started feeling a little more realistic if momentum continues in the right direction.

After that, I headed to the mall and received a 15-minute massage, which honestly felt great. I left feeling physically reset, looser, and generally better than when I walked in.

At 2:06 p.m., after weighing food options and trying to remain glucose-conscious, I ended up choosing grilled shrimp with jalapeños, broccoli, carrots, and mixed vegetables from the mall food court. No rice. No noodles. No obvious sabotage. I finished eating around 2:25 p.m., and overall, it felt like a solid decision.

From approximately 3:00 p.m. to 4:30 p.m., I spent part of the afternoon helping a friend with business card design and marketing materials for a new business venture.

At 4:00 p.m., I checked my glucose again and came in at 112, which, given the earlier meal, felt like another encouraging sign that things are continuing in the right direction.

From approximately 4:30 p.m. to 6:30 p.m., I spent time in a place where I felt comfortable working on songwriting. I gave a new song idea a real shot, but ultimately realized the emotional direction and overall vibe simply weren’t the right fit. Not every idea becomes something worth keeping, and that’s part of the process.

At around 6:30 p.m., I stopped by a sign and graphics shop to help continue brainstorming signage options for my friend’s new office suite and business endeavor.

Afterward, I stopped at Sufi Kabob and had some cheesy naan bread with chutney. I intentionally kept that in check because of the obvious carb load and mostly just wanted something small to nibble on rather than making a full indulgent meal out of it. Sparkling water, as usual, stayed in rotation.

At some point while preparing to begin driving for Lyft and making my way through a familiar route, life decided to present an unexpected encounter that I could not realistically avoid without it becoming awkward or unnatural. What followed was an unplanned but important conversation that opened discussion around unresolved emotional territory that clearly still exists.

Nothing dramatically moved forward, but nothing collapsed either.

There was no breakthrough resolution, no major answers, and no sudden restoration of anything—but the interaction did leave things in a neutral space rather than a damaged one. Cautious optimism would probably be the most accurate way to describe how it ended, while still recognizing that time and space remain necessary.

After leaving that encounter somewhere around 7:30–8:00 p.m., I initially intended to continue with Lyft, but my dashboard lights and continued concern over the coolant issue made it clear that forcing the night wasn’t the smartest move. I called the evening short and headed home instead, with the intention of addressing the leak issue tomorrow.

I arrived home around 8:00–8:30 p.m. and found my father outside on the porch unwinding—something a little unusual, as he doesn’t normally drink. He had apparently finally opened some beer I’d had sitting untouched in the refrigerator for months, along with a Black & Mild I had left for him. He was already several beers in and clearly in his emotions.

I had pulled in listening to the latest production work on the song I’m currently developing, so naturally I shared it with him. In the middle of all of that, we were also happy to see that one of our outside cats, Shadow, had returned after being missing for a few days, which genuinely felt like a small bright moment.

After that, I came inside, took a shower, got into bed, and called it.

As I write this, it’s 11:40 p.m.

Today somehow managed to be about health discipline, car maintenance anxiety, body care, creative movement, creative frustration, helping others build something new, an emotionally significant unexpected encounter, strange conversations about AI psychology, family moments, and the quiet relief of a cat coming home.

Honestly… kind of a lot for one day.

05/10/2026

Mother’s Day.

This day has never been just another holiday to me, because I never treated Mother’s Day as the one designated day each year to make my mother feel special. That was never our relationship. I always tried to make her feel special consistently, because we were close like that. Mother’s Day was simply a spotlight on something that was already true every day.

Now she’s gone.

And that reality sits differently on a day like this.

I went to sleep sometime in the early morning after staying up late working on music, then woke up around 10:00 a.m., tired from the creative push but genuinely excited about what had come out of it.

The same song I had been working on yesterday was dramatically reworked, and honestly, it turned into something special. A real banger. Probably one of the strongest contenders in the arsenal so far for this project. For the first time in a while, I felt legitimately energized about the work ahead instead of simply using music as an emotional outlet.

On top of that, negotiations with Hariet regarding instrumentation landed in a solid place the night before. Horns and woodwinds are officially moving into the project, and if this collaboration continues going well, I’ll likely use her again for additional material because this new song absolutely demands that kind of instrumentation. It leans heavily into a 70s disco feel, and I can already hear what it wants to become.

By around 10:30 a.m., I checked my blood glucose.

110.

Considering the lack of sleep, emotional backdrop, and stress load, I’ll take that.

Before heading to church, I grabbed breakfast: two sausage patties, two eggs, two slices of cheese, picante, and sparkling water.

I arrived at church around 11:20 a.m. and caught up with my dad, Jerry, and Ofelia.

The message centered around fasting—how it must be a genuine sacrifice rather than performance, how it’s intended to shift focus toward God, humble the individual, and create space to seek what’s needed spiritually, whether that be protection, clarity, direction, or provision.

But even sitting there, I found myself wrestling internally.

Some biblical concepts have always bothered me—particularly the idea of generational consequences being carried through descendants because of what ancestors did. That has always struck me as unfair. My brain naturally goes toward individual accountability, justice, and logic. Seeing people as individuals rather than extensions of inherited guilt. So even in church, I found myself wrestling with faith, justice, fairness, suffering, and interpretation.

I had intended to leave by noon.

Instead, I left closer to 12:20 p.m.

By then, I already knew I didn’t particularly like the day.

Not because church was bad.

Just because Mother’s Day is what it is now.

Shortly before 1:00 p.m., my dad reached out through iMessage to let me know his phone service was out. The only reason communication was functioning at all was because he was connected to home Wi-Fi.

I told him I’d take care of it.

That sent me to T-Mobile to solve what should have been a straightforward practical problem.

Instead, it became one of the hardest emotional moments of the day.

To get my father a working phone and service, I had to pay the outstanding balance and restructure the account. That restructuring meant removing my mother’s inactive line.

I did not expect that to hit the way it did.

But it did.

Hard.

Standing there discussing options and logistics with the customer service representative, I broke into tears.

Because what should have been simple administrative problem-solving became another forced confrontation with the reality that my mother is gone.

Not abstract grief.

Administrative grief.

The kind where a phone line suddenly represents presence, continuity, and emotional residue.

My father now has a new phone and a new number.

My mother’s phone is now inactive.

I hate that.

At 1:53 p.m., I was on Harbor Bridge delivering the new phone.

At 2:15 p.m., I arrived at my dad’s workplace, grabbed his inactive phone, and headed home to migrate his data to the new one.

By approximately 4:30 p.m., I returned to his work and completed the setup, aside from a few work-specific credentials requiring direct access.

Mission accomplished.

Dad operational again.

Emotionally, not much had changed.

I was still carrying the T-Mobile moment while functioning through it.

As I was leaving, I found myself directly in front of a very specific location that instantly triggered a memory.

My last Mother’s Day with my mother.

That year, I had purchased a Happy Mother’s Day balloon in Ingleside.

It escaped.

I chased it.

I lost it.

I was frustrated because I genuinely wanted her to have it.

But I kept going.

Then later, in an entirely different town—Aransas Pass—I spotted another Happy Mother’s Day balloon caught in bushes outside Lowe’s.

I pulled over and grabbed it.

At the time, it felt spiritually significant.

God still made sure my mother got her balloon.

I later took her for a snow cone.

While passing that same area, I told her the story.

She also seemed to recognize the significance of it.

We took a photo of her holding that replacement balloon.

That was my last Mother’s Day with her.

And now, after one of the hardest emotional administrative moments involving her absence, I found myself physically standing in the exact coordinates of that memory.

I wasn’t initially heading to Conn Harbor for emotional reasons.

I just didn’t know where else to go.

Only while driving did it hit me:

This is where we used to go.

A place where we would sit near the water, drive around, enjoy each other’s company, and simply exist together.

One of the places where I took one of the later photos of her outside playing her ukulele.

So that’s where I went.

While at Conn Harbor, the emotional drift unexpectedly turned creative.

I started designing album covers for the upcoming music.

Then made a major project decision.

Instead of releasing an EP, I decided I’m releasing singles.

That changed everything creatively.

Then I decided the logo needed to change.

That turned into a full redesign session.

Around 5:30 p.m., my dad called.

He needed his old phone to authenticate into work apps using workplace internet access.

So around 6:00 p.m., I returned to his workplace and delivered it.

Afterward, I came home.

Around 6:30 p.m., I sat in the driveway for about half an hour: listening to music, rehearsing, and continuing the logo redesign.

The redesign came out really well.

So well, in fact, that it forced another full creative pivot.

Now all previously created single covers had to be rebuilt around the new branding.

So I did exactly that.

At some point while sitting in the driveway, the car wouldn’t start.

Battery?

Alternator?

Unknown.

But it wouldn’t turn over.

So I came inside.

Later, around 9:30 p.m., I realized I had basically forgotten to eat all day.

I tried the car again.

It started immediately.

Thankfully.

So I went to HEB and grabbed: frozen cooked chicken patties, cashews, beef jerky, and a 12-pack of unsweetened lime sparkling water.

That last one is strangely symbolic.

There was a time where I wouldn’t have believed I’d genuinely prefer unsweetened sparkling water.

Now I honestly don’t really want much else.

By 10:10 p.m., I was home eating: a chicken patty with pepper jack cheese.

And emotionally?

I’m not fond of this day at all.

Some of the people I thought might show up emotionally on a day like this didn’t.

But even that feels secondary.

Because the one person I would actually want here simply isn’t.

And that is the part that no productivity, no creativity, no errands, no problem-solving, and no distraction actually fixes.

05/11/2026

Iwoke up around 8:30 a.m. emotionally heavy. Mother’s Day may have technically passed, but grief doesn’t follow a calendar. The ache was still there the moment I opened my eyes. Dad had already left for work. I got up, showered, fed the outside cats, checked on Monkey, and made sure he was okay. Around 9:08 a.m., I checked my fasting glucose and came in at 103. That alone says a lot considering where I was just a couple of months ago. I found myself reflecting on how far I’ve come, especially considering how much I initially hated finger pricks and blood sugar checks. Now it’s almost second nature.

Around 9:35 a.m., I had only a small amount of beef jerky and cashews, which would end up being nowhere near enough for the kind of day ahead. I tried checking on Dad and dealing with some of the phone complications he’s been having, but the conversations quickly became frustrating. Everything felt more complicated than it needed to be, and by around 9:50 a.m., while crossing the Harbor Bridge, I ended up hanging up again out of frustration after another circular conversation.

At 10:00 a.m., I followed up with the staffing agency regarding the leasing opportunity. I was told the job was essentially mine, but the details were vague, especially regarding the exact property. That immediately raised concern. Rather than sit with uncertainty, I took matters into my own hands and began personally investigating the area they referenced, driving the route, checking possible locations, and calling around. The more I looked, the less confident I became. What should have been straightforward felt increasingly unclear.

Later in the morning, around 10:50 a.m., I arrived at a security company headquarters after revisiting an older workplace chapter and following a lead. By 11:36 a.m., I left with legitimate possibilities on the table, including an overnight patrol option, but I still wanted clarity on the leasing situation before making any commitments.

Shortly after, I learned Dad had locked himself out of the house earlier and had to climb in through a window. Because of that, I went and had an extra house key made for him so that situation wouldn’t happen again.

During the early afternoon, I stopped at an older familiar facility to reset, use a clean restroom, and gather myself. I also weighed in and confirmed that I’m now down to 172 pounds, a significant drop from where I had been only a couple of months ago. That was a reminder that despite everything emotionally, there has been real progress physically.

Not long after that, while stopping at what initially appeared to be a vehicle sales location but turned out to be more of a mechanic shop, I checked my coolant and discovered the reservoir was empty. I added coolant on the spot and contacted a mechanic referral I’d been given earlier. He agreed to stop by later after work to inspect the issue.

At 1:15 p.m., I stopped at Dollar Tree to get supplies to better organize my car, including replacing the unstable fabric caddy I’d been using in the passenger area. By around 1:52 p.m., I had replaced it with a more solid organizer setup, which immediately felt cleaner and more functional.

Throughout the afternoon, I continued trying to reach the staffing agency for clarity, but repeated calls went unanswered. Eventually, I decided to go in person. I changed clothes at a laundromat so I’d be presentable and arrived at the staffing office around 3:30 p.m. only to find the place dark, locked, and empty despite posted business hours. That only deepened my concerns about professionalism and transparency.

Around 3:50 to 4:00 p.m., I stopped by an insurance office to check on previous applications and simply introduce myself in person. They took my information and said they’d follow up.

At approximately 4:05 p.m., while traveling a normal route, I unexpectedly ended up behind someone emotionally significant in traffic. I immediately recognized the vehicle and chose not to engage. I deliberately disengaged, changed direction, and removed myself from the situation to avoid any misunderstanding. Even so, the emotional impact lingered.

At 4:25 p.m., I messaged the mechanic, letting him know I was heading home and thanking him for taking the time to inspect the coolant issue. By 4:42 p.m., I was passing through Portland after the Harbor Bridge, and by 4:50 p.m., I was entering Aransas Pass. I made a quick Walmart stop for groceries, then arrived home at 5:01 p.m.

I changed into normal home clothes, started making food, and was finally about to properly eat when the mechanic arrived early at 5:15 p.m. I had to pause mid-meal and go outside. He inspected under the hood, under the vehicle, and reassessed with the engine running. No visible leak. No moisture. No obvious radiator issue. The coolant had dropped somewhat, but nothing clearly revealed itself. The plan is to monitor levels and do a pressure test later in the week if needed. He left around 5:25–5:30, and I finally got to finish eating.

At around 6:10 p.m., Dad came into my room while eating, sat on my bed, and started smacking loudly while chewing. Given the kind of day I had already been having, my tolerance was low. I told him I didn’t appreciate that and that if he wanted to spend time with me, he could do so after he was finished eating. It became a brief boundary conflict, and that was the end of that moment.

Emotionally, the evening became extremely heavy. The combination of grief, relationship strain, job uncertainty, family stress, vehicle concerns, and total exhaustion pushed me into a very dark emotional space. Negative thoughts surfaced. No action was taken. The emotional wave eventually passed.

At approximately 7:30 p.m., I left to do rideshare work. Before officially starting, I stopped at the familiar car wash and cleaned the interior of the vehicle, wiped everything down, and cleaned the windows. My first ride officially began at 9:40 p.m. My final ride started around 11:18 p.m. and ended around 12:30 a.m.

By around 1:30 a.m., I reached Aransas Pass and stopped for a late meal that wasn’t ideal from a strict health standpoint, but after the kind of day I had, it was what happened. One imperfect meal does not erase months of progress.

When I got home afterward, I checked on Dad and found him confused and disoriented. He didn’t seem fully grounded in what day it was or what had happened. I sat with him, talked him through possibilities like exhaustion, stress, grief, and dehydration, and helped reorient him. He admitted he was scared and thought he might be losing his mind. That moment shifted everything emotionally, and we reconnected.

After that, I helped him with several things on his phone and setup, including creating a custom ringtone so he would immediately know when I was calling, setting up facial recognition, introducing him to ChatGPT and his new assistant, showing him how to document his work logs, and teaching him how to copy and paste those logs so I could later prepare invoices for him. We also reviewed our broader financial situation and immediate obligations, which helped reduce some pressure, even if only slightly.

By 2:46 a.m., I was finally in bed. Tomorrow’s plan is straightforward: follow up with the staffing agency for exact property details, contact Dad’s doctor about missing prescriptions, check coolant levels, and if the leasing opportunity falls apart, move forward with the overnight patrol security position. If stability starts to return, then the bigger goals remain the same: downsizing this house, resuming workouts, yoga, supplemental rideshare income, and continuing the path toward massage school.

05/12/2026

Iwoke up sometime around 8:30 or 9:00 a.m., not exactly sure. The moment I got up, I went straight into creative mode. Started writing a new song, and one of those rare bursts happened where everything just flowed. The lyrics came quickly, the concept locked in, and before long I had the full draft version of the song completed.

That same creative momentum carried into the visual side. By the end of the same sprint, I had also completed the album artwork. It still amazes me how quickly I can move when I’m fully locked in creatively. Music, lyrics, and design all tend to move as one machine when inspiration hits.

After finishing the creative work, I showered, fed the cats, and hit the road.

While driving, I called the staffing agency to clarify a work opportunity I had already been suspicious about. Sure enough, instinct was right. The assignment was tied to the exact place I suspected, and based on logistics and the environment, it just wasn’t going to be a fit.

The call confirmed what I already knew. I kept it professional, left the door open for future opportunities, and moved on.

Another reminder that intuition tends to read situations pretty accurately.

Since I was already headed into town, the day shifted into practical mode.

The rough mental list became:

follow up on Dad’s prescriptions
check in on the patrol opportunity
check vehicle coolant
check fasting blood glucose
grab food
possibly work a little if it made sense

One of those “handle life while already out” kinds of days.

At 11:45 a.m., while still in a waiting area handling errands, I called the doctor’s office because there had already been issues getting Dad’s prescriptions sent over properly.

Confirmed they were finally sent.

While already handling that, I scheduled my own appointment immediately after his on the same day, knocking out another responsibility in the process.

At exactly 12:00 p.m., I walked out of the security office having accepted the nearby patrol position.

Training details are still pending, but the job is officially in motion.

Interesting timing—one opportunity confirmed exactly why it wasn’t right, while another one opened that actually made sense.

At 12:06 p.m., while leaving, my other security contact called offering optional extra shifts later in the week.

No final decision yet.

At that point, the next priority became checking both vehicle and body before eating.

At 12:34 p.m., I pulled into the usual car wash.

Checked coolant first.

Slightly lower than the previous day, but still clearly within safe range.

Then checked fasting blood glucose.

12:34 p.m. — 97 mg/dL

That number genuinely stood out.

Especially considering the previous night’s carb intake.

One of the better readings I’ve had in a while and a very encouraging sign that the health changes are actually showing up.

Machine check: good.
Body check: encouraging.

By 1:00 p.m., I grabbed barbecue.

Kept it mostly protein-heavy: fatty brisket, a little sausage, onions, jalapeños, pickles, a light touch of sauce, and sparkling mineral water.

Simple. Satisfying.

Around 1:25–1:40 p.m., I took lunch to a beach park on Shoreline.

Sat, ate, decompressed, and enjoyed the reset.

While there, I checked in with Robert and learned his father was dealing with cancer-related medical appointments or treatment.

That landed heavy.

News like that has a way of instantly putting your own concerns into perspective.

After leaving the shoreline, I stopped by the Del Mar College gymnasium.

Ran into some former colleagues and unexpectedly reconnected with Roy, who I hadn’t seen in years—possibly not since before Mom passed.

That turned into a long catch-up.

Roy shared stories from decades of working there, navigating difficult personalities, surviving institutional politics, getting thrown into hot-seat situations, and somehow always finding a way through.

One of his philosophies was that he doesn’t particularly care whether someone is good or difficult—he just figures out how to deal with whoever’s in front of him and keeps moving. Not necessarily how I’d phrase it or approach it, but it was interesting hearing his perspective and stories.

I shared some of my own Del Mar stories too.

It was genuinely good catching up.

I also had to share the news about Mom’s passing, since the last time we’d seen each other, she was still alive.

That was a moment.

At some point that afternoon, I unexpectedly saw someone from my past I’ve intentionally been trying to avoid.

The internal reaction was immediate.

Not nostalgia.

Not sadness.

Disgust.

Just that ugly, unsettled nervous-system reaction when you unexpectedly cross paths with someone emotionally tied to difficult history.

Not pleasant.

Around 3:00 p.m., Roy was hungry, so even though I wasn’t still hungry myself, I joined him.

Ordered the smallest thing possible just to be polite instead of sitting there while he ate alone.

A small bowl of chili with cheese and a club soda with lemon and lime.

Still mentally aware of how even something minor might affect glucose.

By around 3:30–3:40 p.m., after wrapping up the visit, the strange “now what?” window opened.

Most of the day’s responsibilities had already been handled:

work movement
medical calls
food
errands
social reconnection

That’s also where the smoking reality hit harder.

I’ve already gone through far too much nicotine since restarting.

The body is clearly pushing back:

coughing
phlegm
irritation

The truth is simple:

It’s poison.

And maybe physically feeling how ugly it is becomes part of shutting this relapse down.

Between 4:00–4:07 p.m., I ended up back at the usual car wash.

Cleaned out some accumulated trash, regrouped, and took a breather before deciding what the rest of the day would look like.

Late afternoon into evening turned into several hours of driving around and talking on the phone with a trusted friend.

The conversation covered grief, health, relationship strain, emotional exhaustion, life history, and current realities.

What stood out most wasn’t the topics.

It was the genuine sense of being heard.

There’s a major difference between someone listening and someone actually caring.

That difference was noticeable.

And appreciated.

By around 7:00 p.m., I arrived at a friend’s office after being asked to remain nearby due to some recent uncomfortable client situations.

Spent time talking beforehand.

The environment itself was calm, quiet, and grounding.

A genuinely peaceful place to decompress after a full day.

At 8:15 p.m., the scheduled client arrived.

By around 8:20–8:22 p.m., the session began.

I remained in the common area while waiting.

Quiet environment. Comfortable space. No pressure.

Honestly, just peaceful.

At 9:30 p.m., I left for home.

Immediate thought:

Now what?

The day had been productive, emotionally layered, socially full, and oddly grounding all at once.

At 10:20 p.m., I got home and let Monkey out.

Immediate reminder: he needs more stimulation, more attention, and a better environment.

He was vocal, active, clearly wanting interaction.

But the current clutter makes that difficult.

Too much stuff.
Too many concerns.
Too little safe freedom.

That triggered a larger realization: the environment has to change.

New work structure may finally create room for that.

The vision:

reclaim the living room
tackle the kitchen
restore the office
eliminate the cat smell
replace the broken cooling
repaint
redo flooring
make the space livable again

Not just for me.

For him too.

Later that night, a painful but meaningful memory surfaced.

After Mom died, both Monkey and I were in bad shape.

He became visibly depressed.

Developed lesions.

Stopped being himself.

Truthfully, I wasn’t much different.

I was emotionally unraveling too.

Back then, we put a tent in the front yard.

It sounds strange on paper, but that tent became this weird little survival space for both of us.

We’d spend hours out there together.

Day after day.

Just existing.
Trying to regulate.
Trying to breathe.
Trying not to completely disappear.

Monkey slowly started showing signs of life again.

I think I did too.

I remember shaving his fur down so I could properly see the lesions and make sure nothing was being missed. Giving him medication. Managing injections. Trying to save him while barely holding myself together.

That tent wasn’t a solution.

But for that season, it became a kind of lifeline.

Now there’s this thought of building something better for him—a dedicated space where he can safely move around, explore, rest, and simply be a cat.

Maybe something healing for both of us again.

End of Day Weather

A surprisingly productive day.

Creative momentum.
New work movement.
Strong health validation.
Unexpected emotional triggers.
Meaningful reconnection.
Real support.
Hard truths about nicotine.
A growing need to reclaim the home environment.

Biggest immediate battle:
staying away from cigarettes.

Biggest larger battle:
rebuilding life structure, one space at a time.

05/13/2026

I woke up around 7:30 a.m., but didn’t actually get out of bed until about 8:30 a.m. Physically awake, mentally slower to engage. One of the first things I handled was sending Dad’s invoice for the work he completed at his other job. Like many things involving helping him administratively, it didn’t come without friction. Communication with him can be exhausting sometimes. There’s often either too much explanation around things that don’t need it, or confusion around things that should be straightforward. Still, I got it done. I also moved some recent rideshare earnings into my account, with another payment expected later in the week, so at least there was some financial movement instead of total stagnation.

I also woke up to the completed horn and woodwind production sample for the song project I’m working on, and unfortunately, it confirmed exactly what I was afraid of. The musician assisting with the arrangement did not execute the direction we discussed at all. Instead of subtle emotional support instrumentation, the brass essentially took the lead and pushed the whole thing straight into jazz territory. Not borderline jazz. Jazz. And I’m not about jazz. I don’t even like jazz. That is not what we discussed, not what the song called for, and not the emotional lane the project was supposed to live in. No jazz hands. Absolutely not. There is no way I’m accepting that work. The good news is the project funds aren’t gone, since the platform holds them until completion or dispute resolution. The frustrating part is that they’re temporarily inaccessible until everything gets worked out. Still, delayed is better than lost. The likely outcome is canceling the collaboration and finding someone who actually understands the emotional direction of the song.

Emotionally, none of this existed in a vacuum. I was still carrying the emotional weight of the unresolved relationship situation. Still deeply upset. Still destabilized. Still carrying conclusions I’m not at peace with.

At 8:45 a.m., I fed the cats. Out of frustration, I smoked a cigarette. Immediate regret. Immediate physical confirmation that my body is not happy with this relapse. It made me feel sick. I also hated the lingering smoke smell on my skin, clothes, and environment. As much as I briefly slipped, this clearly isn’t working for me. The relapse proved the point. Time to stop again.

At 9:14 a.m., I left the house. Before heading out, I checked the coolant again. I had filled it to full a few days ago. Yesterday it had already dropped. Today it dropped even further. I topped it back off, which pretty much confirmed what I already suspected: something is leaking. That shouldn’t be happening. A mechanic visit later this week became more likely. I headed toward Corpus with a few possible stops in mind: the security office, chiropractic care, and possibly a massage.

While driving, another frustration surfaced: the cruise control wasn’t working. That genuinely aggravated me because I rely on it, especially for longer drives, since keeping my foot extended on the pedal aggravates my sciatica. This issue has happened before intermittently, usually resolving itself after restarting the vehicle. Not today. Still emotionally overloaded. Still silence where there shouldn’t be silence.

At 10:00 a.m., I reached the security office and signed in. The onboarding process wasn’t actually ready yet because the position hadn’t officially posted. Frustrating, but I was reassured the opportunity is still mine. I simply need to keep checking the careers site and apply once the listing goes live. So the opportunity remains intact, just delayed by process.

Then came another unwelcome discovery: all of my bank cards, credit cards, and my driver’s license were missing from my phone wallet case. Immediate stress. Fortunately, I had gas in the tank and emergency cash in the car, so I wasn’t stranded. But the bigger issue remained: missing identification and missing cards. Another realization hit in real time: apparently I can’t trust this phone case.

At 10:20 a.m., I turned around and headed back home to search for everything. Completely unplanned detour. More gas burned. More disruption. If the license was actually gone, that meant a bureaucratic headache I didn’t need.

At 10:25 a.m., on the drive home, I got off the phone with Skyler, who thankfully agreed to meet me at the house. That opened the door to getting a few things looked at: the coolant leak, the cruise control issue, and the broken passenger-side door handle. That door handle carried more emotional weight than it should have. Truthfully, part of me never wanted to fix it. Not because of inconvenience, but because it was tied to a moment that felt light and alive. One of those strange physical remnants of a memory. That brought me back to lyrics from The Hereafter: “Revisiting memories when life was lovely. Destruction takes its place. Reconstruction’s not the same.” Still true. Fixing restores function. Not meaning.

At 10:47 a.m., I checked fasting glucose. The first reading came in at 78, which immediately felt suspicious. I felt completely normal. No shakiness. No dizziness. No weakness. No sweating. So I confirmed it. Second reading: 121. Third reading: 118. Accepted reality: roughly 118–121. Still solid progress. Good reminder that hope loves a miracle number. Discipline demands confirmation.

Around 11:00 a.m., I started preparing food: a grilled chicken patty, pepper jack cubes, mini bell peppers, cream cheese, and everything bagel seasoning. I had been craving Indian food, or at least the flavor of Indian food, but after what happened the last time I went that route and how dramatically my glucose spiked, I wasn’t trying to repeat that. So I improvised. Added curry powder to the chicken. And honestly? It worked. Not perfect, but enough to scratch that craving without going nuclear on blood sugar. Unexpectedly effective little food hack. Only downside: that curry smell absolutely refused to leave my hands.

Then Skyler arrived. I paused food prep, went outside, popped the hood, and talked through everything with him. I went back inside to check the chicken, and while trying to continue prepping the peppers, found a bug sitting on one of them. Instant appetite killer. Ruined the whole setup. Threw the pepper portion away. Went back outside. Skyler’s diagnosis became clearer: likely radiator leak. Pink crystallization along the radiator strongly suggesting radiator failure instead of a hose issue. Not ideal. But clearer direction.

At 11:15 a.m., I finally sat down to eat. The exact moment I started eating, Dad came in and immediately started fumbling around right in front of me. Of course. One of those moments where the second you finally sit down to do something simple, something interrupts. Small thing on paper. Not small when your nervous system is already overloaded. Meanwhile, Skyler was still figuring out what would be involved with the broken passenger-side door handle.

At 12:07 p.m., I left the house again. Cruise control was working now. Resetting the warning lights fixed it. Huge relief. Headed back toward Corpus. Immediate goals: tire pressure and gas. Beyond that? Honestly… I didn’t really know what I was doing that day. The day felt emotionally untethered. A little aimless. A little lost. Just moving and handling things as they came.

By 12:40 p.m., I was near the tire shop, stopping for gas first. At least practical things were getting handled.

Around 1:30 p.m., I ended up at the mall and got a massage. While there, I called my chiropractor and managed to secure a 3:00 p.m. appointment. Massage first. Chiropractic after. I had to wait a bit, but eventually got a 20-minute massage. Good start.

Around 1:50 p.m., I left the massage. Since the gym was right next door to the chiropractor, I figured I’d use the hydro massage chair to loosen up more. The girl at the desk was kind of rude and told me the chair wasn’t working because the Wi-Fi was down. Annoying, but fine. So I sat in the lobby instead, passing time going over lyrics and mentally rehearsing songs.

Around 2:30 p.m., another gym member asked for the exact same hydro chair. Instead of being told it wasn’t working, they walked her right over and started it. Immediate irritation. I had literally gone there specifically for that chair. Turns out the employee simply didn’t know what she was talking about. So now I had to wait for the other person to finish.

At 2:45 p.m., I finally got hydro chair access for a 15-minute session.

At 3:00 p.m., chiropractor. Electrode therapy. Problem areas targeted, including my teres minor, which is consistently one of my worst areas. Then chiropractic adjustment. That combination helps. I’ve noticed massage, then chiropractic, then massage again works really well. Or at minimum chiropractic followed by massage. I also knew I had slept wrong, which was part of why my body felt especially tight and off that day. So the body clearly needed intervention.

At 4:05 p.m., I went back to the mall for a second quick massage to loosen everything up after the adjustment.

By 4:25 p.m., I was done, back in traffic, and headed toward the usual car wash. Straightened up the car. Reset mentally. At that point, I genuinely couldn’t remember if I had anything else I needed to do. Kind of just moving on autopilot.

At 5:18 p.m., I reached the point where it felt like I had exhausted everything I realistically needed to do in Corpus, so I headed home. Near Harbor Bridge, my attention shifted toward Monkey’s future outdoor space: the little front-yard booth. It needed to be cleared first, then I could start figuring out the enclosure or catio concept, porch expansion, dimensions, materials, and budget. Thinking 5x10? Maybe 5x5? Nothing was locked yet, but the project was starting to feel real.

At 5:45 p.m., I made it home.

From 6:00 to 8:40 p.m., I attacked the booth. Major progress. Cleared trash. Separated donations. Listed items for sale on Facebook. The transformation was significant. Now the structure was nearly empty and usable. Big realization: I already have a portable floor AC unit that could potentially work in Monkey’s future space. That removes a major future expense immediately. Huge advantage.

Then came an unexpected emotional discovery. Buried among everything was an old deflated aluminum balloon that said “I love you.” One I had given my mom. That stopped me. Not in a comforting way. The booth wasn’t just holding clutter. It was holding remnants. Memory. Pieces of unfinished plans. I also found old baked goods signage, preserved keepsakes, and remnants of that future venture. Three signs. Still there. Unexpected emotional time capsule.

At some point before leaving that evening, a Marketplace inquiry came through about the dumbbells I had listed. The buyer wanted them. But since I knew I’d be out that night, I told him it would basically be first come, first serve in the morning. We agreed he’d message around 7:30 a.m., I’d send exact details, he’d head over, and likely pick them up around 8:00 a.m.

At 9:07 p.m., I headed toward Corpus intending to do Lyft. But instead ended up at the usual car wash. And that’s where the creative pivot happened.

Instead of working rideshare, inspiration hit. I started writing a new song while sitting there. The idea kept building. I sat in the car writing, eventually went home, kept writing, and finished the song. And it’s hot. Genuinely hot. One of those songs where you immediately know it has something.

Meanwhile, a separate production development happened. My producer had finally listened to one of the songs I had already previously submitted to him for production work. He liked what he heard. That triggered the payment process. He sent the invoice. I paid it. Then the platform glitched. The payment appeared to go through, but the project didn’t activate properly. So I paid again. Now suddenly I’m looking at what appeared to be two separate payments gone and thinking, what the hell just happened?

Once everything cleared up, it turned out the system had actually created both projects after all. So instead of one production moving forward, two songs are now actively in production from finalized drafts.

Which means I now officially have six songs for the new band’s EP.

And more importantly, there’s actual separation forming between what feels immediately strong and what feels more situational.

Right now, four of those songs feel genuinely strong and release-ready. Not just good. Strong.

Then there are the remaining two. One leans more mellow. The other is emotionally powerful and deeply tied to grief, but whether it lands the same way sonically is still a different question.

That said, most of this EP is rooted in grief in one form or another. The one real outlier right now is the brand-new song written that night, which lives in a different emotional energy altogether.

But stepping back: six songs now exist for this EP. Four already feel hot. Two are still finding their exact place. And considering how quickly this came together? That’s real progress.

After all that, I stayed up refining the vocal execution for the brand-new song. Listening. Repeating. Testing phrasing. Tightening delivery. Obsessing in the way creatives do when something feels genuinely alive.

I didn’t finally get to sleep until roughly 4:00 a.m.

05/14/2026

I woke up exactly at 8:00 a.m. and immediately realized the day had already started in chaos.

Someone was supposed to reach out around 7:30 before heading my way, but when I woke up, my phone was completely dead.

Apparently, I had drained the battery the night before while refining vocal execution for the song I had just written, working through delivery ideas until I apparently fell asleep in the middle of it all.

So the morning started with that immediate oh crap realization.

The phone initially wouldn’t cooperate either, whether because the battery was fully depleted or because the first outlet I tried wasn’t helping.

Eventually, I got it charging in the living room, brought it back to life, and saw that the Marketplace buyer had left his number.

Thankfully, he was flexible.

I reached out, explained the dead phone situation, and he still came by.

The dumbbell sale got handled, which at least meant the day opened with something productive instead of pure frustration.

After that, I showered, got myself together, and headed into Corpus.

The plan was to check on the staffing agency paycheck situation, stop by the security company, and then transition into rideshare mode.

But somewhere around 9:00 that morning, while driving down Holly and singing the new song from the night before, something happened that stirred everything emotionally.

I crossed paths with something unresolved.

Oncoming traffic.

Opposite direction.

One of those surreal moments where reality suddenly intersects with the exact emotional thing you’ve been carrying.

And because emotions don’t exactly care about logic, the thoughts immediately surfaced.

Should I turn around?

Should I say something?

Should I suggest the beach? Just talk? Unwind?

But the reality is the reality.

The space between us currently exists, so I continued to abide by that.

So outwardly, nothing happened.

Internally, though, everything got stirred.

That strange emotional static where technically nothing happened, but your nervous system definitely disagrees.

At 10:00 a.m., I stopped by the security company’s office.

That turned out to be productive.

Because I had already completed much of the onboarding paperwork sometime between vocal work and finally going to sleep around 4:00 a.m., the rehire process is streamlined.

No unnecessary all-day training.

No starting from scratch.

I’m officially in.

Next week will just be orientation, paperwork, and finalizing everything.

By 10:15, I was already back out the door.

Quick.

Efficient.

A legitimate win.

After that, I hit one of those strange open windows where there wasn’t an immediate next move.

So I parked at Walmart on Greenwood and called Dad.

Handled practical life stuff.

Talked about the clothes I forgot to move into the dryer.

His pending paycheck situation.

The booth cleanup from the night before.

Monkey’s future enclosure project.

And the fact that I had moved some of his belongings to the back so he could sort through them himself.

After that, I headed to the car wash to vacuum out all the leftover sand, junk, and debris from hauling trash and donation items the night before.

While there, I checked my glucose.

112.

Makes sense, considering I was hungry and my food intake had been minimal.

Some eggs, bacon, and one taco earlier because I was starving.

At that point, I transitioned into rideshare mode.

And immediately made a bad decision.

Accepted the first fare without paying attention.

Autopilot.

Next thing I know, I’m taking someone all the way to Sinton.

For a trip that absolutely wasn’t worth the mileage.

Then came the dead return drive back into Corpus.

That one fare wrecked the rhythm of the day.

Fuel burned.

Time burned.

Momentum burned.

By the time I got back, it felt like all that effort had basically canceled itself out.

Deeply frustrating.

And while driving back into Corpus around 1:23, another emotional moment surfaced.

Driving past a park, I thought I saw something familiar.

Another immediate internal collision.

Another should I stop? should I say something? moment.

But just like earlier, nothing happened.

Still, emotionally, it all lingers.

By 3:15, I regrouped enough to put gas in at the usual Murphy station by Walmart on Greenwood.

At that point, hunger was impossible to ignore.

So I made a smarter decision and went to El Gavilan Pollero for chicken with serrano peppers.

Honestly, one of the better calls of the day.

From there, I headed to the shoreline.

Parked by the beach.

Sat down.

Ate.

Exhaled.

And somewhere in that decompression, the creative engine kicked in again.

Another song started forming.

Not just fragments.

A real concept.

And the rest of the day kept feeding it.

At some point after that, I parked at the now-empty lot where the Yin-Yang Fandango and Tango Tea Room used to be.

That place holds history.

Mom.

Dad.

Belly dancing.

Drum circles.

Creative gatherings.

Community.

And during one rough chapter, when we lost our home, that place even temporarily became shelter.

I had rented an office there while waiting for the next housing situation to open up.

It wasn’t glamorous.

It was survival.

I also had little makeshift songwriting / recording spaces there once.

So seeing that whole place reduced to dirt and grass now hit differently.

A place once full of movement, people, creativity, and memory reduced to open emptiness.

After that, I drove around for a while, continuing to work on the song.

By around 6:15, the vocals were largely locked in.

Which is honestly wild considering the idea hadn’t existed earlier.

By 6:40, I made it home.

At that point, rideshare no longer looked like the smartest use of the evening.

Marketplace activity had picked up.

So I changed course.

One buyer wanted the twin memory foam topper.

Another was already lined up for the Irish Setter steel-toe boots.

So instead of making separate trips, I consolidated.

Loaded both items.

Headed to Portland.

Sold the topper first at the Stripes convenience store.

Then immediately headed to Walmart in Portland for the boot sale.

Both transactions went through smoothly.

After that, I immediately went to deposit the cash instead of carrying it around.

Then I made my way back to Aransas Pass and stopped by Walmart hoping to catch Dad on break.

Missed him.

Barely.

Instead of heading home immediately, I stayed parked there.

And apparently disappeared into a creative time warp.

Vocal practice.

Testing delivery.

Working on album art.

Refining the new song.

And somehow looked up and realized it was already 9:30.

Because despite emotional friction, practical detours, rideshare frustration, physical exhaustion, and mental overload, creativity never shut off.

And this song feels different.

Not because the others aren’t real.

They are.

But this one is painting something current.

Something emotionally immediate.

One of the major realities happening right now.

Which probably explains why it came together the way it did.

By 9:47, I was done.

Showered.

In bed.

Not moving.

Even hearing Monkey crying somewhere in the background, I had nothing left.

No energy for anything.

Not emotionally.

Not physically.

Not spiritually.

And honestly, not even much energy for Dad getting home from work shortly after.

Just completely drained.

But even in that exhaustion, another thought surfaced.

Creative direction.

Songs are coming fast right now.

Really fast.

Not once in a while.

Consistently.

Which naturally raises the question of whether this is even an EP anymore.

Or something bigger.

But the bigger realization wasn’t about quantity.

It was about cohesion.

Not all of these songs belong in the same emotional container.

Some do.

Some clearly don’t.

And that got me thinking about something I’ve noticed before while spending time around Bulgarian pop-folk music.

A lot of those artists don’t even seem focused on albums anymore.

They just release singles.

One after another.

Momentum-driven.

Song-first.

And honestly, maybe that’s the smarter path here too.

Not forcing songs into a structure they don’t naturally belong in.

Just releasing the strongest material when it’s ready.

End of day. Nothing left.