‘Luncheon’ Is Such An Odd Word
Or, at least, a ‘life-reframing’ lunch.
Had to click-bait you; that’s the way of the Internet nowadays, right?
Ms. Gray
Had lunch with Jessie today.
She reached out and offered to take me out after I shared my confessional with her privately.
Went to Ziggy’s, which I have a conflicted association with, given previous experiences associated with grabbing drinks or pizza there in the past, but those are my things to contemplate ad-infinitum.
I chose the place solely for that, so I could change my association to it.
I chose well.
The long story short, the lunch was a little over three hours.
In that time, Jessie just listened, giving no judgement, but offering perspective I hadn’t considered.
What resonated with me was, paraphrasing: “I’ve never seen someone getting such a strong signal from the Universe.”
She continued: “I’ve never seen so many… series of…”
A chuckle came – “…of unfortunate events?”
Here’s to you, Lemony Snickett.

Universal Messages
The most accepted take-away from the long lunch is that the Universe is stripping me of what I consider important, piece by piece, and that I need to accept the message and stop fighting the flow.
And that properly terrifies me.
Letting go of everything I know, letting go of everything I’ve built… just plain-and-simple letting go is not my idea of a great time.
Again, Jessie with the reframing: “The Universe is offering you a gift, if you just but stop and listen.”
And honestly, I’m inclined to agree, though… I really don’t want to.
My Kids
One of her more controversial suggestions is to let my children go and focus on myself – the kids don’t need to see me go through the agony of reforging the man, but they need to see the man reforging.
I can’t hang subject them to the day-to-day, and I need to be selfish in protecting myself in the effort.
It’s hard to think about doing that.
At the same time, it’s been very, very relieving to be able to cry, isolate, and otherwise work through my suffering without the feeling of shame and guilt I have otherwise had when they’ve been here.
She also had some words about my obsession with money and the drive to be as safe as possible without any consideration of what I need to be.
I’ve been so obsessed with making sure I had all the material things I wanted and needed that I haven’t actually asked myself what I actually want, as a matter of personal exploration.
I have an idea of what a life is supposed to look like, working towards that versus asking myself ‘What do I want my life to look like?’
The question is nuanced in such a way that I have to step back and consider.
Success(?)
I have looked for everything that I considered the quintessential ‘success,’ but I haven’t really thought about or given real consideration to whether that’s what I want. I’ve pursued success, as I see it, out of a state of fear versus pursuing what will give me the most satisfaction in my time in this plane of existence.
So I’m asking myself: what do I want to do that doesn’t necessarily make me happy, but, most importantly, leaves me satisfied?
That’s a far bigger question that I’ve put on simmer in the back of my skull while I deal with the issues directly in front of me.
And in case you wondered: a sandwich named the ‘Italian Toasty,’ with BBQ chips, and a pickle, with a Mountain Dew.
It was delicious, as Ziggy’s always is.
Naked Rat
To leave you on an amusing anecdote: I got to the restaurant thirty minutes early and sat down at a table where I would be very visible. Jessie arrived, walked in, looked directly at me, then went and sat at another tabl
When I shave my beard off, I look like a completely different person.
Earlier that day, a guy I’ve been working with for two months now freaked the fuck out when I walked into the back of the truck to help him unload. He was asking ‘Who are you?’ and ‘What are you doing here?’ until I spoke, to which he stopped and recoiled a bit, going ‘Wait… what… HOLY SHIT, WHAT THE FUCK?!’ and running away from me for a second.
It was good for a laugh.
Five to ten minutes later, Nick’s autism kicked in, as it regularly does:
“You looked a lot older with your beard shaved off.”
…sigh…
“Thanks, man.”