We'll not consider what today means. Instead, here's a non-edited, slightly stoned, 100% stream of consciousness that was typed over the course of two minutes starting... NOW!

As I hit the enter key, "Stay Alive" (the last ED for Re:Zero) started playing. I'm thinking that I'm probably waning on favor of this song. It's a good song, no doubt, but I have a hunch I won't be listening to it in a week.

Speaking of a week, I came up with a hair brained scheme. In my 1:1 with my manager tomorrow, I'm going to pitch the idea of working remotely in Japan for 3-6 months. I think it'd effectively scratch that itch, because I do love that country so much. People talk about having home sickness, well I've had this feeling only a couple of times:

• In 2008 when I was in college and about to leave back for Orlando following Christmas break
• Every single God. Damned. Time I come back from Japan.

I don't know what it is about being over there that feels so right, but I want to have the opportunity to test if it's just me following the "high" of something new or if I really resonate with life over there that much.

Okay, so the timer went off while writing the above bit, but I had to finish it and added a couple of minutes. I suppose I can bullshit until it goes off...

Sheep are weird, right? They're both meat AND clothing. That's not weird, I suppose. Pigs and cows provide leather, after all. And that's like... a car delicacy.

Oh shit! The timer went off.

Alright, folks. Remember to drive safely and that drugs are bad, m'kay.

Was looking on IKEA's website for a cheap cart that I could use for the coffee equipment at the new office. While getting there, I ran into this gem of a photo:

So many questions.

Why is she holding a dirty spoon? She's clearly not cooking as can be noted by the exceptionally clean counters.

What exactly is she doing? Singing into her dirty spoon?

Where is the oven? Were there any dishes around, I'd expect to see maybe a chocolate cake or brownies... but there doesn't seem to be a place to cook them.

Her outfit seems very 90s. Denim jumper thing with leggings. Hell, the might even be stirrup pants and the stirrups are covered by socks.

It's a curious thing.

I don't have anything particular to say, this evening. I've just returned from a team bonding exercise, aka going out to bar and having drinks and conversation.

Tomorrow is election day, and dear god will I be happy for that to be over. The previous election seasons have been a bit of a shit show, but this year takes the fucking cake. My voting has already been taken care of, thanks to the mail in ballot, which is probably the best way to vote. I was able to sit down for an hour or so and, while I was filling out my ballot, research all the various questions, what they were really introducing, and make an informed decision about my vote.

Of course, that was just for the state propositions. I skipped most of the "position" votes because I don't care or am not informed enough (even with that research), save for two:

I voted for Hillary, because I feel she's just going to be status quo. Not only that, but I can't pretend to stand behind my morals and cast a vote for Trump. Unlike my father who, despite years of decrying the man, will vote for him regardless because it's a vote for his team, which has lost in the last two elections. That's all it boils down to for him, and I clearly disagree in this regard. Though I don't think Trump would have enough political power or clout to do the heinous things he's talked about, I'm not about to sully what's left of my soul by backing the man (party affiliation be damned).

The other position I voted for was a write in. Why? Because there were only two options to vote fore: the one guy that was on there, or whomever I pleased. So I voted for my friend devbus. because it clearly doesn't matter how that vote goes.

I suppose this was slightly more than a "whatever" post, but scrolling through my Facebook feed gave me the ire to talk about how much I'm sick of this goddamned election, much like I'm sick of it every year it happens. I'm ready for things to go back to normal.

Whatever that is...

My mom does this thing on her blog called "music monday" where she chooses some song and then writes about the lyrics and how it relates to her or discussing the meaning. I'm going to do that, but with two changes:

• it's Sunday
• the song I'm choosing is sung in Gaelic and I have no idea what it means

The Best is Yet to Come - Metal Gear Solid

The Best is Yet to Come is the song you hear upon completing Metal Gear Solid. It begins playing after we've watched Snake and Meryl (or Otacon, if you fucked up) take off across the snow swept plains of Alaska. It's a lovely and haunting piece that captures the exact essence of "Alaskan Plains".

I first heard this song back in college upon completing Metal Gear Solid for the first time. You could say it was love at first... hear? and made it straight into rotation. I have a particularly vivid memory of a long walk on the Cady Way Trail on my way to deposit a living expense check. There's a point on the trail where it runs through a bunch of trees, making it feel like walking through a tree tunnel. This was on a particularly fall-like day, with the leaves turning various shades of orange and brown, and there was even a slight crisp feeling to the air. The Best is Yet to Come began playing on my phone/mp3 player and provided the most perfect music accompaniment to the scene laid out around me. Almost made the 8 mile round trip bearable...

Every year around the fall/winter months, I put this song back into rotation. Playing it a little more than usual this year, not sure why. Perhaps because it accentuates what little there is of a fall feeling in the Bay. Perhaps I'm feeling just a tad melancholic.

Or perhaps it's just a damn good song.

Eleven years ago (to the day, I believe), I began my term at Walmart, back when it was still spelled with a dash. At that time, I took this picture:

While I was visiting folks in September, I found my old vests back (which is to say my brother had held on to them all this time). Having hauled them back to the Bay with me, I decided that I'd dress up as old cashier Matt for Halloween and wore the vest to work. Here's that same picture updated for modern times:

Looking back, I realized I was quite proud to be working at that store. Moreso than anything, I was probably just happy to have a job, but looking back on it, there was something to be proud of. During my not-quite-two years there, I went from quiet coder to a sociable person who could hold his own in the world. I worked in almost every department in the store in an attempt to be one of the most versitible people there. It was also slightly self-serving in that it allowed me to do something slightly different a lot, but that shit looks amazing in the eyes of management. I topped out at cashier "management", which is really just ensuring the front-end was well manned and that cashiers get their breaks/lunch on time, gaining me the coveted red coat. It didn't last, as I went to cart pusher for the last few months there, but in retrospect, I'm pretty proud of what I accomplished in the little time I was there.

It wasn't a luxurious job, but I'll treasure what that time meant to me... always.