Asthmatic Bronchitis

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I was planning my 850th post to coincide with the seventh anniversary of my brother Joel's death. I've talked about him before here, here, and here. I had just enough posts left to do 2-4 posts a day and then have this one be on Thursday. Then I got really, really sick (no, not with asthmatic bronchitis -- keep reading for that). It took nearly two days to get whatever vile offense was in my system out. Then within six hours after I had literally solid evidence of my improvement I was struck again (yes, that was awful, and yes, it was intended), this time in an even more incapacitating manner but with such intensity that it didn't last as long. I was better by the middle of the next day. Of course that was Friday. Doh! I've finally gotten around to the 850th post, and we're three days beyond the anniversary of when my brother died. I'm also exhausted from grading like a monster for well over a week, putting in a few days of over twelve hours (the two longest days were during the time I was sick as a dog, one I think a full 18 hours). I just don't want to spend the time writing up what I wanted to write. I also have only a short window of a weekend to relax for a bit before I have a week to get my grades for one class in, amidst hosting the Christian Carnival next week. I should easily have time for both, but I might have some more long days if I don't want some long nights next weekend.

The main reason I'm not doing what I wanted to do, aside from the time it would take to reflect on the things I wanted to watch (the memorial service at his college that I couldn't make and still haven't seen, a concert of the one band he was in during high school that I wasn't part of, which I haven't seen for a while, and news footage from when he died, most of which I haven't seen at all), is that such reflection just takes a tremendous amount of work. There are three things that it's just pointless to ask me to try to do when I'm in this condition -- physical work, thinking about important decisions, and reflecting on my inner life. I can read a detailed commentary with all the little Greek details or pick up some technical philosophical article with all its complex logical symbols, and I might even have something to say about it. This is exactly what I prefer to do when I'm exhausted, and I enjoy it as a way to slow down at the end of a long day or week. When it comes to reflecting on what's going on within my own inner workings, that takes being in the best condition, both physically and emotionally. I just simply can't do it very effectively otherwise, and I certainly won't want to. Now when it comes to what's gone on inside me for the past seven years, I think you can see why I don't want to venture into that realm in my current state. This is partly because of the way God made me. Joel was always the exact opposite. The lyrics below make that clear. (Myers-Briggs results: me, ISTJ; Joel, ENFP). I did want to do some sort of recognition of his life, but since I can't force myself to reflect for any more than this introduction required, I've decided just to post the lyrics to my favorite song by him, called Asthmatic Bronchitis:

time constraints -- temporal changes
reality bites -- hormonal changes
fashion statements -- conflicting dreams
making a point -- blowing off steam
music blaring -- judges staring
egos flaring -- nobody caring
confusing life -- pain and strife -- does anything make sense
what is right -- in this life -- I'm getting pretty tense

tell me what makes me feel this way
give me something more to say
show me is what we're doing okay
make me into something real I pray

spiritual thoughts -- my life on fire
thoughts of you -- lustful desire
the ways of life -- not understood
not being alone -- if I only could
mass confusion -- surrounds us all
pride comes quickly -- how quickly falls
how can I know -- which way to go -- unless you tell me so
I will follow -- where you go -- I'll let my spirit flow

tell me what makes me feel this way
give me something more to say
show me is what we're doing okay
make me into something real I pray

I'm the chief of sinners -- but I'm always very frank
look into my eyes -- and you can see my plank
I'm not afraid -- to rock the boat
but when I fall -- do I sink or do I float
for what I believe -- I've been called a rebel
for how I look and act -- I've been called the devil
don't put me any higher -- than I what I make myself to
and if I put myself too high -- make sure you humble me

tell me -- what makes me feel this way
give me something more to say
show me is what we're doing okay
make me into something real I pray


beautiful. my condolences.

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