Second rate

Not being the best sucks. I’d gotten over my competitive bug when I was younger, in the world of unarmed martial arts. Picking up a rapier changed that. The first time I got hit in the face, I realized there was no longer any question of outcome or rules. I got hit in the face. If it was sharp, I was dead. And everyone in the damned room saw it, so you had to deal with it. Pure martial honesty. It was love at first sight to me. No bullshit, no posturing. Everyone’s skill level was put right out there for everyone to see. You called every shot that even remotely touched you, because if you let a blade get that close you were a chump. End of story. You called back every shot that wasn’t pure gold because, damn it, you wanted a chance to do it again, better.…

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And suddenly…

I’m done. No more night shifts. I get to start the fun process of adapting myself to daylight living. You’d think it would be easy, but having shifted a few times before, I expect to be somewhat useless for a while. It’s sort of like wicked jetlag, but without the fun of travel. I’ve made grand plans for the next few days, but I expect to fail at all of them. By next week my energy level should be up to were I can try to feel productive. One of the stranger things is going to be getting used to having an evening again. At my old schedule, I would leave for work at 9pm, be done work at 6am, and try to asleep by 7am. I would try to get eight hours of sleep, but I never could. It drove me nuts to think of how much day was…

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Once were tough

Calgary is a special town… Just before I get to that, a little heads up. This post is scheduled later than usual. I’m about to start the process of transitioning out of night work. I quit my day(night) job to write. I’m not stupid so I’ve landed myself a part time job to cover expenses, but…yeah. Big change. Scary. My plan at this point is to wake up early and write blog posts, and then use the day and evening for writing when I’m not working. I did briefly consider doing blog posts on alternate days, but I’ve come to really enjoy the experience of raw, first draft, no edit writing. It’s a humbling treat for me. So where were we? Calgary. David Edey and I made the trip up in a lovely rental car, and only one speeding ticket. Got into town late in the dark, and crashed at…

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Iron legs

I learned an essential lesson about fencing when I made my first pair of hardened leather greaves. It took a whole evening to cut, shape, and harden them, but when I was done I had a pair of greaves that covered my lower legs from just under the knee to the crease of the foot. The only gap was a wide strip across the back. They fit well enough to my legs that I could put them on easily, but they really didn’t need any strapping to stay on. I was very pleased with them. I took them off and realized I could easily nestle one inside the other. One of my calf muscles was so much larger than the other that one fitted greave rattled loosely inside the other. I wasn’t that surprised. Fencing can do that to a body. It’s a damaging sport, and the damage comes from…

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