log: success coach

WORMDATE: L2: 542-110,688: 5-1,775: 37,785-1,195,342 

Seoul and Busan just had municipal elections, won in both cases by a rebranded conservative party. Although conservative parties generally make me nervous, I don’t know or understand enough about party politics in South Korea to have much of an opinion. My understanding is that people are frustrated by housing prices and corruption. The ruling democratic party, which lost power in these elections, has also generated sexual harassment scandals. In Busan, the mayor resigned after facing allegations of sexual harassment and, in Seoul, the mayor was also accused and quickly killed himself. Apparently, one of the promises of the new party in power is to reinstate the women who made the allegations against the mayor of Seoul. That’s not so bad. We’ll have to see how this all goes. Things change fast here. Fingers crossed that it’s not a disaster.

Mainly, I’ve been face down working on a research paper during the weekdays — reading things related to it on weekends. There is, of course, some crossover there, but that’s the basic gist of it. I’d tell you what it’s about but doing that always seems to fuck me up.

Jinxy.

Haven’t made much or any progress on the novel, but think I see a few hours during the night, when I should be able to open some time to work on it. Interdimensional Puncture Wounds is continuing and taken a bit of a strange turn. Seems about one second after mentioning that I haven’t been feeling the Worm God Zero part of it much, some corridor opened and communications have resumed. So it’s getting a little weirder over there.

I had a mandatory meeting with a “success coach” from my new college. There’s very little that I find more depressing than a positive attitude and a sunny disposition. And when the conversation is about “success”? SUCCESS?! My success? And what I can do to be successful? It makes me want to throw myself off a bridge. I also suspect that “success coach” is some sort of code for “suicide watch.” It felt like counselling. I’m not into that.

Just the word makes me shudder. Success. Sounds like something a man-faced snake hisses at you from the bushes. “Successssss.”

Now, the “success coach” seemed like a nice enough young lady and this whole thing probably helps some people and I’m sure she’s doing the Lord’s work but . . . Me and the Lord? We haven’t spoken in years.

The good news is that my wife stayed up eating popcorn and listening in. She derives great amusement from watching my occasional attempts to impersonate a human. If not for her, who followed the conversation by mocking and psychoanalyzing me, I’d probably still be laying face down on the living-room floor. Wife said that when I was asked what my interests are, she could hear the rolodex in my head flipping to find something that was A) Not too disturbing and B) Would not require follow-up questions. I settled on “housework.”

Q: “So what are your passions? What do you like to do in your spare time?”

A: *long pause. considers bringing out my folders and binders.* “Oh you know. Housework.”

I don’t even remember what I said about my career path and academic goals. The honest answer is “none and no thank you.” I like to move boxes.

Nothing to do now except live in dread of October when I have to do this again.

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