It is already September and I've accomplished nothing I had planned for myself for 2022: no fitness, no album, no writing, no progress. The black dog of despondency is gnawing at my heels.

Usually at these times I imagine some future event or milestone that will help be break out or reinvent, and at that time, I'll be able to achieve my goals. Right now, that future event is the idea of selling my condo and buying a new flat, and this new space will help me become a new person. I spend a lot of time imagining decor and elements that will somehow evidence me into a better man.

But I have to recognize this as a trap. A new environment is only a McGuffin, and that for me to change, I have to change. Changing the world around me may help, but, in past it has only helped a little.

With my mom living here, tensions are high as we all negotiate new ways of being. Her being here has shamed me into actually doing maintenance, which is despise, but, is probably necessary.

I really must get Lonely Cactus and Spiky Cactus back online. Right now, I'm upgrading the ancient server from Fedora 34 to Fedora 36. Tomorrow, I'll have to try to remember something about certificates and routing and all such nonsense: things I have learned and then forgotten dozens of times already.