October. Train tracks, hot yoga, and apple crisp.

October the 6th. 
Today was a Tuesday that felt oh, so much like a Monday. It was my Monday of the week. 
Coming off a long weekend that was consisted chiefly of dough and the end result of said dough, I feel a bit tighter around the middle, but I'm trying to do enough crunches to circumvent that. Not that it matters. Summer is in the past. We are in the time of sweaters and warm socks and cardigans. Also known as bulking season. I suppose I should wash my sweaters from last year. I know I don't need to. 
The dust here is not terrible. There hasn't been some construction on my room for quite some time.
It's fine. 
Feeling the upcoming fall has me craving the colder weather. Maybe not the rain, but we've had enough of that this summer. Apple picking sounds like a perfect afternoon. Once it gets below 78 degrees, that is. Ohhhh, the South. 
I will forever have a deep-seeded love for the south. It's where I've spent my entire life. The climate down here is something with which I'm very familiar. Hot and sticky summers, lightly chilly autumns, and glorious, glorious springtime. Summers that ruin your shirts, making them moist with sweat and with tears from all the new yoga poses.
If I had the money to buy a new wardrobe every fall, this would be a different story. But then again, that would be a different story, and mine is the only one I've got. Not that it's much, but at least it's mine. I don't have much, but hey, weird is good, right? And I'm a weird one.

October 7th, 2021
Today was a Wednesday that felt like a Wednesday. That mid-week day that won't end.
It passed by surprisingly fast.
I woke up on the right side of the bed today. Literally the right side. I normally get out of bed on the right side. I try to avoid the pile of pillows. The last thing I need, first thing in the morning, is to tumble onto the tile floor right when I wake up.
The right side is better.
I woke up in my normal head space; late. Just after 8am.
Not that 8 is early, by any means.
My sleep schedule has been weird. I've been falling asleep less easily and waking up has been harder.
Waking up is always hard. 
The sun was up, but not too bright seeing as it was overcast and dreary outside. My body has been waking up at 7am for quite some time, but something about this morning kept me asleep. Possibly the overcast-ness of the sky, or the drizzly weather.
We have entered the time of year labeled as "Fake Fall" here in Atlanta. The time where the sun ducks behind layers of clouds and the atmosphere breathes the breath of fall - but still with summer lungs.
It's remained in the upper 70's in the mornings and lower 80's at noon. At night there is a gentle whisper where I can almost hear the promise of Autumn. Cooler temperatures. That glorious time where I can (sorrowfully) put away my tank tops short shorts and transition to cardigans and thick warm socks. Along with sweaters that I'm not sure will fit anymore. Pants that may need to be let out a smidge. This booty is growing.
New rain boots yet to be purchased, and flannels that have holes or a missing button. Small things that cause me minor annoyance, but don't break me entirely. Small annoyances are doable. My life is full of small annoyances. Like socks that are too long, or how my beard trimmer takes nearly forty-five minutes to trim this mane on my face. 
Thankfully it hasn't been taking that long. But then again, I've been keeping my beard short this year.
A short beard has suited me this year. I've been seeing pictures from this time last year, and good lord. If there's one thing I can do effortlessly; it's grow a beard. 
If there's one thing I can't do: it's keep my room clean for two weeks in a row. But then again, small annoyances. 

October 7th,
Today started out with a drizzle. Don't worry though, the drizzle continued all day long. A few times it even full-on rained! Today was my first day back on Marta in what feels like a blissful two weeks. I've been taking lyfts, due to a larger than normal paycheck due to working so much which has of course caused me to be up later and sleep harder. Not that it's been anything special, or I've gone anywhere or done anything spectacular.
Today is Thursday. I rode the train today, yet again. I had almost forgotten about the train. How it twists and turns effortlessly along the tracks. That is, apart from the [*insert job title here: Pilot, Conductor, Train director, what have you*] stomping the brakes every two to seven minutes between stops. I thought about life and how it twists and turns like the train on the tracks, inevitably headed towards the next station. Then how at the end of the day it sits and gets rained on outside on the same set of tracks. 
Today it felt like my feet were the tracks, and inevitably I'd be sitting here, but thankfully not getting rained on and also sitting inside. Drinking sleepytime tea. A much better alternative.
Actually, I already drank the tea and now I'm simply sitting. On a chair that had some wear and tear. Only on the outside. The leather is worn, and to be honest, I'm not even sure if it's real leather, but lordy it feels good to sit. Not reclined, and oh so tired, but my mind is still running those laps, or tracks if you will. 
Today was a long day. Any day spent on Marta feels like a long day. Three hours of my day are preoccupied with travel. Three hours for ten miles. But it wasn't all bad. I listened to some of the same music as the last time I had ridden the train.
It hit differently this time. Now that summer is fading, and the rain is upon us, and I'm still waiting on those temps to drop a bit. I wore joggers today. I sweat because of it. But then again, I skinned my knee last week, and no one wants to see that. Plus, I wore the same pants the last time I went to Costco and I felt the need to serve some of what I've been referring to as "Gym dad realness", chunky sneakers and all. Dad stuff.  Not that I'm a father to anything but plants, and I certainly didn't birth those, but does propagation count? The rain did that. 
On that note, I'm going to let the rain patter me to sleep, like I wish you would.
Tomorrow will be a good day. An easy day. 
Tomorrow also kicks off another Pride Weekend, but that is a post for a much more energetic Ty. Maybe sometime I'll get some writing done before I'm about to hop in bed. But that is not this day.
Today was Thursday, tomorrow will be Friday, and so on and so forth. Like keeps going. Sometimes it would be a bit nice if I could grease the tracks myself, but then again I'm not a train and I don't have tracks. 

October 13th, 2021
Today started out with the smallest amount of snoozes on my alarms. I slept through, again. But it wasn't too late for me to make a cup of tea and do some quick yoga before heading to bed. My mind was loud this morning so I found myself drowning in guitar solos on my way in to work.
I find myself drowning in music a lot on Marta. Guitar solos, beautiful choruses, and heartbreaking interludes. 
Work was busy for the first time today. I pumped out three chocolate cakes, two apple crisps that happened to be the best I've ever made, and seven loaves of banana bread. 

October 19th, 2021
Today was a Tuesday that felt much like a Monday. But then again Tuesdays are my Mondays. I woke up late due to not falling asleep in time: because that makes sense. Like my mom used to say when she went to the workout center and let my brother Chris and I stay home, "I'm going to go so I can get back". 
This morning I missed the bus, or it missed me. I had to take a lyft to the train station since I didn't have thirty extra minutes to wait for the next bus. I always greet my lyft drivers with, "Hey, how's it going?" Drivers are people too, after all. I recieved silence, and loud sighs. She had been on the phone with someone who had wronged her in some way and was shouting, okay loudly exclaiming - not quite a shout, to "never call her again and leave her and Marsha alone". What else was I to do, other than sit in silence. A few time I've been talked to the entire ride about a lyft drivers problems. Hell, more often than not. I didn't have the energy this morning, being still physically exhausted from this damn head cold. 

October 20th, 2021
I don't feel like writing today, but whatever. 
Today I felt like a volcano. Boiling beneath the surface. For various reasons. Money had been extremely tight, and I've got twenty dollars left in my account. I was supposed to be paid two days ago, but life has happened and the pay has not dispursed yet. So it goes. Today was a twelve-hour day. I left my house at 8am and got back after 8pm. I am tired. This body is exhausted. I didn't have the energy to work out or do yoga when I got home, but I'm glad I squeezed some time out this morning to do a quick stretch. I've been on edge since this morning. Feeling defensive for I don't know why. I've been struggling with feelings of self-worth this past week. Am I good enough? Am I really who I say that I am? Is this paltry existence really worth it? Yes, I'm glad I survived the attempted ends, but is this really the best that life can be? 
Yes, I really enjoy my job.
I love to cook, but is this the right place for me? What will it take to get there, to where I really belong? Is this right, or is this yet another holding pattern? It intrinsically feels like a holding pattern. Hell, the past three years have felt like a holding pattern. This week has felt like a holding pattern. Damn it, today has felt like a holding pattern. What the hell is next? How do I find it, and how do I get there from here? What steps do I take? What literal direction am I supposed to walk in? Do I go north, south, east, or west like I'll be going tomorrow morning for work? West, then North. Bus, then train, then train, then walking uphill to work. By homeless people who I've seen before, and also walked in their shoes. 
Today I worked twelve hours. It wasn't rigorous, but it was tiring. I'm still coming off a head cold, which is still draining what's left of the energy I've got left for the month. I should've been in bed an hour ago, but I needed to do laundry. Both of my aprons were filthy, and I'm craving a clean pair of pants that I haven't worn in two weeks. Thus, I'm up. Not really. I've been dead since I've gotten home. Humus, chips, crispy tofu, shower, wine, laundry, stressing: the normal. It's time to put today down, and lay this body to rest for a few short hours. Tomorrow will be better: Less boiling, more hummus. Neatly folding laundry. Maybe having my thoughts in better order, but let's not get ahead of ourselves. Midtown station where I can gaze at the beautiful shallow midtown gays. At least I might see someone young and attractive. Like I hope to be in the morning. But now it's looking like I'll be in wrinkled clothes, and my only care will be about getting to work on time and having a goddamn cup of coffee to finally wake me up. 

October 21st, 2021
Hello and good evening, yet again. Today is the twenty-first day of October.
A momentous day, at least for me. Today began with me cursing my last name, because I don't identify with it, or the men that have come before me. Liars and cowards aren't my vibe. Empty promises, either. 
Today marks three years since I moved back to my hometown in Fort Myers, Florida. I had promises of a family, a fresh start, and a new outlook with my nieces close by. I was excited to be Uncle Ty to the fullest extent. But we all know life doesn't go according to plan.
Turns out I spent a total of five months in Florida. Peppered with small delights, and very deep lows. I became tired and raw after two weeks. I turned to drinking heavily and smoking packs of cigarettes in a few days' time. Hot coffee in the morning, even though it was upwards of 85 degrees at 7am. Iced coffee in the mid-afternoon, along with a Gatorade or a Body Armor water. You know, to replace the lost electrolytes with sugar. 
I stayed in Florida: The Garbage State, for five months. 
Okay, it's not really a garbage state. I had dreams of that being the last move for me. I knew it would be.
Eternal sunshine. A place where seasons don't exist and it's always either summer or kind-of-summer. And hurricanes.
Anyways, five months, and four death attempts later I found myself packing a moving truck while my father watched March Madness on a Saturday night at the end of March. 
But that's a story for another time, and this is October, dammit. 
This morning began with a prayer. Look at me: praying. It went, "Dear GOD, please let this be a short day". Spoken with reverence, of course. Maybe I was praying to Beyonce. Who knows. 
Work began with an event where I grinned and bore it. Not every day of work can be splendid. 
A stained glass tour for seniors. Maybe some day I'll be a senior. I would really like to finish at least one non-culinary degree. Yet another silver platter, glistening in the sunlight. But this morning was rainy. 
An additional twenty sandwiches added to the menu for Sunday. A there will be a film crew. We decided on Muffalettas while making a late breakfast. I went with an egg white sandwich with some greens. A highly enjoyable Kroger run was a nice change of pace from the usual Publix adventure. No beautiful midtown gays, but hey a kid almost ran into the cart TWICE so it was not without excitement. 
We unpacked the trunk and unloaded the groceries, then decided to call it a day. And by that, I mean we ran for the door. 
I decided to pop by le Target to treat myself to some luxury items such as body wash, and deodorant. I also got new towels because Treat Yo Self. Plus having just one old towel is for the birds. 
I decided to catch up on some sleep when I got home, since I'm still dealing the remnants of said head cold. I slept extremely hard, which is rare for me. I had dreams so loud they woke me up. Twice. But then again, my mind has been screaming at me the last few weeks. Obnoxious things like, "Slow down", as well as "go faster". It makes no sense, but then again not a lot does these days. 
I awoke with a song that I hadn't realised I'd had stuck in my head and in my bones. I let it out, or rather in, through my ear holes. 
Work out, yoga, shower.
The usual post-work routine, with the new, added bonus of fresh towels. A beard cleanup, folding laundry, dinner. While I was eating dinner I finished up Squid Game on Netflix. While I was watching, a roach crawled up my arm. I immediately burned the house down.
What do *you* do when a roach crawls onto your arm?
Sometimes I hate Georgia. Other times I realize I'm just weary of the South. I've spent my entire life down here. 
So I'm changing that. The next great adventure awaits me in the Pacific North West. It's the meantime that's getting to me. The waiting is as loud as my dreams, and I can't wait to wake up in Seattle. It feels strange yet familiar to talk about waking up before I lay my head to rest yet again. But that's what going to sleep is. A waiting period. A period to rest. I'm familiar with waiting periods. Not rest. I wish I was better at both if I'm being honest. 
But as a wise woman once said, Life is in the waiting. 
So I'll wait, with hands not tucked into my wrinkled pants, but ready to goooo. A new day lies ahead. So I'll finish this glass of wine, and get on with it. 
Let's get this bread, y'all. It's waiting for us, and it's warm and fresh out of the oven. Let's tear into it. 
And if there's one thing I can't get enough of, it's crusty bread.

October 27th, 2021
Good lord, this has indeed been a week. I'm no worse for wear, but all the more tired. Today I made three pans of enchiladas. Today was Wednesday. I thought most of the day it was Tuesday, but the way the day went was obviously a Wednesday sort of vibe. This weekend we've got a concert series at work. I will be making some puff pastry (I'd like to make it myself but limited work hours and rising and proofing time make it a nearly impossible task) with some pear and brie, brushed with a honeyed glaze, and topped with candied sage and dusted with nutmeg. You know; simple fare. But rich with flavor and goodness. Tonight finds me watching the second game of the World Series which features my beloved Atlanta Braves. And the Houston Astros, which will forever remind me of my beloved High School Youth Pastor, Nick Jones. I remember talking about fish tattoos and dinner and movie nights with him and his wife Amanda. A very tender time. One of the biggest things I remember Nick saying was when you want a tattoo, think about it for a year, then get it. It's one of the things I've lived by ever since. I currently only have three, but I've got a folder of possibilities and lots of them are tattoos. I want to be painted. A living art piece. No face tatts. But I wouldn't shake my head at a sleeve. Today I wouldn't have shook my head at a hug. 
Some Wednesdays, the middle of the week doesn't feel like anything but a continual grind in order to get to the weekend. Weekends that feel so fleeting. But still, I must persist. I can do no other. 
I found myself walking today, busy and with hands full of dishes, and realized that I've somehow turned into an adult?!
I've felt myself expanding. Physically. I've been regularly switching up my workout routine. Trying new exercising exercises and new yoga poses. More reps with the same weight. I am using an old bookbag as a weight after all. I'm happy with the progress I've made in the past couple of years. I can't believe it's been years. 2020 is still on my mind. This year has sort of been a 2020 hangover. And like any hangover, it's been here for too long.
But also like any hangover, that feeling has disappeared in a flash and the following existence has been a blur.
It has been an exciting year. Lots of good changes. Lots of weird changes. Not as much self-growth as I'd hoped, due to being busy, I haven't had loads of time to invest as much as I'd like.
My time at home has been...convoluted. Extensive phone conversations with my brother, who continues to be my best friend and greatest ally. Long workout and yoga sessions. Cooking more. Diet changes. Digestive struggles. Nasal upsets. Putting forth effort. Not drinking during the week. Going to bed early. Taking vitamins. 
It's weird, this fight to be an adult. 
The insomnia hasn't stopped, not that I'm surprised by that. I still lie awake for an hour or three before I finally drift off, and proceed to toss and turn all night. Thoughts running through my head as to how I should get my hair cut, and how to give my EmOtIoNs the AtTeNtIoN they DeSeRvE.
Today was...good? Honestly, I felt like I was faking it. I made some enchiladas. Let me be clear, they were good, all three pans of them. We ran out of chicken halfway through the second pan, but wonderful glorious Meg got us some more. I pulled two rotisserie chickens off the bone while still hot and shredded them. These kitchen hands just keep giving. Added some green chilis, tossed the whole mess with some spices, and roughly combined the whole mess. Rolled it in tortillas and c o v e r e d it with enchilada sauce, then -naturally- covered the whole mess with a Mexican blend of cheeses. Baked it at 350 until it was bubbly. Then transferred it to the convection oven to let it get some color. For 5 minutes.  If I were doing it on my own oven, I'd have turned the broiler on. 
Gotta have that color. Canned enchilada sauce is a meh for me personally, but we only have so much time, and yet again, it is not my kitchen. 
I've been thinking a lot about my own kitchen, lately.
Not the kitchen in the house in which I reside, but my own kitchen. My own restaurant? I have a small menu. Small plates. A drink list. An ambiance. A feeling, and a hope: a Someday feeling. If I had more time and more resources, I'd start doing pop-ups. But that requires time and ingredients which are already hard enough for me to acquire. Limited Resources is the name of my current game. At least it's not Squid game. But I do love me some squid. This pescatarian thing is surprisingly easier than I'd thought it would be. The tomato thing is muuuch harder. It's funny, I never liked tomatoes growing up, but I can't get enough of them now. That briny earthy softness is something I've come to love. 
Well, now that I'm waxing on about tomatoes, I'm going to bed. Dreaming of more things I can't get enough of. Like Pineapples, and farro. Give me a grain-full salad, with lots of roasted veggies and beans and I'm a happy camper. Also camping trips? Can I get some time off and an amen?

October 31st, 2021
This is Halloween, this is Halloween.
This past month hasn't been all too spooky. Some days have been stranger than others, but they've blended together so much, it's hard to tell them apart from here.
Honestly, it's been a difficult month. The weather changing slightly has thrown my sinuses into a tizzy. What started out as a head cold has turned into a sinus infection. If you're down for having a competition, I'm averaging a box of tissues a week. Fight me. The most confusing thing is how I have little clue as to what caused it. It could be the weather. It could be allergies. It could be dust. It could be the pleasant breeze that blew through a small hole in my cardigan. It could be the curse I've inherited from my great grandfather. Who knows?
The past few days I haven't been working out as consistently. I've found myself busy with a myriad of other things, and simply haven't. It's been long days at work, and the train rides to and from take up three hours of my day, which is just absurd. Again, Marta is a means to an end. One really can get just about anywhere in the city on it, if you've the time for it. If I were to run all my errands on Marta, I'd be one of those people you see on public transit with a cart.
So, kind of like how I was in Target this past week.
Groceries take up suuuch space. Not only physically, but also mentally.
Working back in the kitchen has allowed my juices to start flowing again, and oh does it make me feel good. Limited as my resources may be, it's refreshing to feel creative again. The past couple jobs I've had haven't exactly been stimulating. 
Tonight my roommates and I descended upon Park Tavern fully intending the Braves to win, but a crushing loss later, we went home. Nothing spectacular happened. I was still sniffly and had to convince myself to leave my room. But this Sunday was enjoyable, otherwise. I did some yoga on the back patio. It was a beautiful morning for it. Then again, it's always a beatiful morning for a stretch. Hot shower. Cold meds. Grocery store run: not on Marta, becuase the bus literally passed me by. Which is...annoying. Nothing new. Still annoying. 

As it is the end of the month, I've been reflecting over the past thirty days. 
The ups and down feel normal, like any other month.
October began with hot yoga on the patio simply because summer was still present. Along came two concerts in a row at Eddies Attic. Noah Gundersen continues to be incredible every time I see him.
The month followed along with a drag show and Pride Weekend, where I worked most of it. Lots of poetry. I didn't take a lot of pictures this past month, which is strange for me.
I think it has to do with my storage running low, but I have been trying to be better at staying off my phone. That screen time, nonsense. Also freaking books,  yall. 
Puzzles and Gym Dad vibes at Costco, then 38 cakes.
Pumpkin carving and more yoga. Beautiful cooler weather and then the World Series. Beer and baseball and all the good things. 
It's been a ride.
Next up we have the Thankful month. November. My focus for next month is to really take note of the good things. Appreciate and be thankful. Something I'm trying to do more in general, so why not start with a monthy intention? 

Here we go. Let's kick it.