#dailyprompt-1895 — Public Fediverse posts

Malaise and Pushups

Mostly, I love mornings. Unless I have to go to work. This happens to be the majority of mornings. Despite me writing all the time like some frenzied badger with spectacles and a cardigan, I don’t make a living at it, or at least enough to make it my fulltime gig. In the future I keep telling myself. Anyways, waking myself up in the morning is hard. Don’t get me wrong, I like my 9 – 5 job. It pays the bills, keeps me alive, provides a little for my family, etc. At my wedding my coworkers were more enjoyable than the majority of my family. That doesn’t stop the existential dread I feel in the morning. One life. What am I doing? How I hate being another nameless cog in the hyper capitalist machine.

I get up early, close to 5 am before getting ready for work. Apparently, and I’ve become more health conscious as I’ve gotten older, but men’s cortisol is highest in the morning. So yeah, all the anxiety, stress, ideas, memories, thoughts, it all hits me like a ton of bricks in the morning.

I can’t speak for all men in this phenomenon of course. Not trying to whatsoever. However, there is plenty of scientific evidence that men’s cortisol levels are highest in the morning. I know for myself currently it is true. I don’t meditate or really attempt that sort of stuff. I guess this could be some variation of it. After I use the bathroom I sort of just lay on the couch and close my eyes. No music. No audiobook. I just give myself about 20 minutes to let my mind be sort of crazy. Paranoia, worry, anxiety, rumination, and intrusive thoughts get their time. I’m always stocked up in those categories. I sort of focus on all the anger and anxiety. I sometimes go past the 20, and sometimes I go less.

After I journey down this dark hole of reflection and wistfulness, I usually workout. I go for about 30 minutes. I do three exercises of free weights, with five sets of each. It is usually a mix of upper body, lower body, and core work. After this I brush my teeth and make myself presentable for the workday. I kiss my wife goodbye, go wake up my kids if I have them that day, and then head to work or to drop them off. Sometimes I have to take my dog back to my exes as well. He’s part of our divorce agreement. Getting twin 10 year old boys, and a dog ready and into my car at 7:00 am is not an easy process. It tends to be stressful.

There have been plenty of times where I skip working out because I’ve ventured too far into the abyss. Where the malaise and existential wormhole has shackled me and I find myself to be unmovable until it is time to wake up my sons. So my weird meditation has drawbacks. Overall, I’ve found if I give myself just some time to worry about things, to really let my anxieties breath in the day, it is much easier to operate. I’m giving the devil its due for about twenty minutes, and that is it. This technique sort of shackles these spots in place for the day. Not saying they don’t reappear. I’ve found at night when I’m tired my ability to control them is weakened.

Weekends are obviously a little bit different. I still tend to wake up before my wife and kids are up, since my schedule is designed for early morning activity. I usually spend my mornings working out if my schedule is thrown off, or I skipped day during the week. I work on blog posts, submissions, edits, and other smaller bits of writing. If I complete all those I’ll play a video game like Tears of the Kingdom, or something else.

As one does.

I’m back in a coffee phase… Weekly Recap 3/30/2026

This has been a very tired year so far. I’ve shifted back to drinking coffee.

In fact, the first hour of each day requires coffee. And often the 10th hour. And sometimes even the 12th hour.

Other than that, I just open up my laptop and write. Like what I’m doing right now.

Good morning and happy Monday, friends.

• New M3 Episode: Kirk White, Golden Dawn Healing, and Pagan Politics

My book, Fluid Condensers: Unlocking the Mysteries of Gold, Alchemy, and Magick has started to ship!

If you don’t smell books, then what are you even doing with your life? Thank you to my wife for capturing these early moments of my reaction to my first published work.

We celebrated Spring Equinox on Friday night. About a week late from the official time of the astronomical equinox, but it’s what was most convenient for everyone.

Had some beautiful flowers on the altar.

Before the ritual started, we tried dyeing some eggs using a variety of natural things… turmeric, elderberry, roselle, cabbage, even leafy herbs.

And then we used those eggs for some spellwork during the ritual. I have a really cool photo of all our eggs sitting beneath burning candles, but I think I’m gonna just save that one for me.

I was really hoping for a happy pink color… or maybe something in a light, pastel purple. I guess it turned out more of a… brown. Oh well. It was still a lot of fun.

In other book-related news, I submitted my next manuscript, which is all about runes. I have no idea what happens now other than I wait. So I’m waiting. But you don’t have to wait… you can catch one of my rune workshops later this year at Summer Magick Fest or StaarCon.

Now that the books are done, I’ve had a little more time to dedicate to other things. I finished up the start of my next M3 season and posted it on Friday. The first episode features Kirk White. Go give it a watch!

I also spent a significant amount of time revamping the video thumbnails, which I haven’t done since I started the show a few years ago. Here’s a comparison of what new thumbnails will look like vs the older seasons. What do you think?

For munchies, we grabbed some sushi.

And on our journey, we also saw the Easter bunny. He was terrifying.

I’ll have a new early release episode out on Patreon soon.

And I think that’s about all there is to report from this past week. Stay tuned for more soon!

The Red Dirt Audit

The neon sign of the servo flickered against the vast, bruised sky of the Outback, casting a rhythmic, sickly green glow over the red dust. The Three Best Friends—Liam, Dax, and Dev—had been driving for ten hours, their old 4WD chockers with server-grade hardware and a beat-up esky full of lukewarm water. They were performing the ultimate hard yakka: tracking a digital ghost to a physical location.

“Fair dinkum, this place is isolated,” Liam muttered, stepping out into the dry heat. He adjusted his glasses, his mind still racing with the content audit he’d been performing on the fly. He knew that to beat the Raven, they had to be beyond reproach. He had spent the drive ensuring their own documentation followed the most rigorous standards, providing informative, unique page titles for every log entry they created. He knew that for each web page, they needed a short title that described the content and distinguished it from others.

Dax climbed out of the passenger seat, immediately checking his handheld light-meter. “She’ll be right, Liam,” he said, though his eyes were fixed on the servo’s flickering signage. Even here, Dax couldn’t stop being a designer. He noticed the signage lacked sufficient contrast between the foreground and background, a cardinal sin in his book. He knew that foreground text needs to have sufficient contrast with background colors to be readable for people like Elias or Lexie.

The Terminal in the Dust
Inside the servo, the air was thick with the smell of deep-fryer oil and diesel. In the back corner, next to a rack of faded bathers and fishing lure, sat a heavy, industrial-grade terminal. It was humming with a low-frequency vibration that made the floorboards rattle.

“There it is,” Dev whispered. He moved toward the machine, his fingers already itching to check the code. “The Raven’s physical gateway.”

Dev knew that to dismantle this, he would have to use appropriate mark-up for headings, lists, and tables to understand the machine’s hidden structure. He reached for the keyboard, but stopped. The screen was a nightmare of unnecessarily complex data blocks.

“It’s a trap,” Dev said. “Look at the interface. They haven’t provided clear and consistent navigation options. There’s no site map, no search, just a single, pulsing cursor. It’s designed to make you feel lost”.

Decoding the Raven’s Form
A form suddenly popped up on the screen, demanding an administrative bypass code. It was a masterpiece of inaccessible design:

The form elements did not include clearly associated labels.

There were no instructions or guidance to help users complete the form.

The input requirement for the date format was not described.

The system used a CAPTCHA that was purely visual, with no audio alternative for someone like Lakshmi.

“You little ripper,” Dax whispered, but not in a good way. “They’re using color alone to convey information here. The ‘Required’ fields are just red boxes with no asterisks or labels. If you can’t see that specific shade of red, you’re stuffed”.

Liam stepped forward, his eyes narrowing. “I can fix the content. Dev, get me into the markup.”

Dev bypassed the visual CAPTCHA by injecting a script that identified the non-text content through its metadata, though the Raven had tried to hide it. As the code bloomed across the screen, the trio saw the “Raven’s” true face. The “Shadow of the Raven’s Wing” was a script that intentionally removed the lang attribute from the html tag, making it impossible for screen readers to identify the primary language of the page.

The Audit Begins
“We need to audit this and flip it,” Liam commanded. “Dax, check the viewports.”

Dax began testing how the page information presented in different sized viewports. He ensured that when font size was increased by at least 200%, the content didn’t clip or require horizontal scrolling. “The Raven’s site breaks at mobile sizes,” Dax reported. “It’s not responsive design; it’s a digital wall”.

Liam focused on the text. He began rewriting the Raven’s cryptic error messages. Instead of saying “System Error 404-X,” he provided specific, understandable explanations and suggested corrections. He wrote in short, clear sentences and paragraphs, ensuring the information was as simple as possible for the context.

Dev, meanwhile, was doing the hard yakka in the backend. He was ensuring that every interactive element was keyboard accessible, especially the custom-made buttons the Raven had hidden in

tags. He used tabindex=”0″ to add those elements into the navigation order so they could receive focus.

“I’m also adding WAI-ARIA to provide information on the function and state of these custom widgets,” Dev grunted. “The Raven used aria-expanded=”false” on elements that were clearly open. It was a deliberate attempt to confuse assistive technology”.

The Raven Speaks
Suddenly, the terminal’s speakers crackled to life. It was an audio-only file, a podcast-style message with no transcript provided.

“They’re pulling a swifty,” Liam said, reaching for his headset. “They think because there’s no text, we can’t index the threat.”

“No dramas,” Dev replied. He quickly ran a speech-to-text algorithm, creating a real-time transcript that included not just the spoken information, but also the important sounds—like the distant caw of a bird in the background.

The transcript read: “You think you’re clever with your WCAG guidelines. But the desert doesn’t care about meaningful sequence. The sand doesn’t have a logical reading order. You’re carrying on like a pork chop in a world that has already moved past you”.

The Counter-Strike
The Three Best Friends didn’t flinch. They knew that providing easily identifiable feedback was the key to a successful interaction. They weren’t going to let the Raven’s unnecessarily technical language stop them.

“Dev, use the progressive enhancement strategy,” Liam said. “Ensure the core functionality is available regardless of the technology the Raven is using to block us.”

Dax added whitespace and proximity to the new interface they were building over the Raven’s ruins, making the relationships between the content more apparent. He styled the headings to group the related content, reducing clutter and making it easier for the next person who stumbled upon this servo to understand what was happening.

As the sun began to rise over the Outback, the terminal finally let out a long, defeated beep. The “Shadow” was lifted. The form now had clearly associated labels for every control. The images had meaningful text alternatives. The link text was meaningful, describing exactly where the user would go next.

“Good on ya, team,” Liam said, wiping sweat from his brow. “We just turned a ‘rejected status’ claim into a fully approved, accessible reality”.

“But the Raven is still out there,” Dev reminded them, pointing to a set of coordinates that had just appeared on the screen, marked clearly with a descriptive label. “And it looks like the next stop is an abandoned opal mine.”

Liam looked at his friends, then back at the esky. “Well, it’s going to be a long drive. But she’ll be right”.

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WHISKERS IN MY FACE AND MEOWS! By Veronica Smith

What are my morning rituals? I would like to say that I get up at dawn to do my Qi Gong exercises but that is far from the truth! In reality, It is my aging bladder and my cats, which get me up of a morning! Once up, my routine is all about THEM!

“Meow! Meow! I want to be fed – Neow!”

So, I stagger to my feet, use the old-fashioned commode beside my bed (we don’t have en-suite bedrooms!), fling on my dressing-gown and shuffle to the cat feeding station. Three plates to be filled for three kitties, who wind themselves around my legs, while I open the wet-food pouch and divide the contents. I must place each plate in a different position, so that each cat gets their fair share.

Then there is the “Topping up the Cat Kibble” ceremony and the cleaning up of overnight kitty litter trays. Oh joy! Once fed, my furry masters want to go outside and bird-watch. So I act as Door-Person for them!

Having fixed up the cats, I can spend a few moments on myself. This time, I am emptying my own kitty litter tray (the commode!), having a wash, flinging on clothes covered in cat hairs, and hastily making the bed before a kitty with muddy paws decides to curl up on the pre-warmed sheets!

I usually put on a load of washing at this time, so that it can be hung outside to dry – provided that it is not raining or snowing!

Eventually, I make it to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. There is always one cat, who chances her paws, and demands a second breakfast of her own! No way, Miss Kitty!

Before I know it, the first hour (or rather hour and a half) of my day has slipped by and is merging with the rest of the post-breakfast chores. Perhaps it is my age but it seems like the ordinary routine jobs take up so much time that there aren’t enough hours left to do anything extra, like having FUN (an alien concept, as Mr. Spock would say)!

So that’s me and my morning rituals – and by the way, Happy April Fool’s Day!

#dailyprompt #dailyprompt1895

Since having gastric bypass surgery I have been very reliant on routine. I feel completely out of sorts if I don’t follow a specific routine on a day to day basis. I was never like that before the surgery, but since I have become a creature of routine. I’m weird like that now.

I get up, put some clothes on, grab my laptop, and head to the cellar. I pick something to watch, a TV show or a movie or a queue of youtube videos. Today is was the season (series?) finale of The Walking Dead: The Ones Who Live. I then jog (pronounced yog) in place for 45 minutes. That closes my Apple Watch Activity app’s exercise ring for the day and it also sort of wakes me up. It kicks my ass too, but it gives me a little sense of accomplishment to start the day. After that it depends on whether it’s a work in the office day or not. If it is not then I eat breakfast and that closes out the first hour of my day. If it is, I prefer to have my breakfast in the car on the way to work so I just head upstairs and take a shower or pack up my computer and my lunch/breakfast and all of that.

I do this seven days a week. Any day that I don’t do it is a mess, mentally speaking. Like I said, I am weird like that now. It’s a whole new world, I guess.

https://robertjames1971.blog/2024/04/01/routine/

#dailyprompt #dailyprompt1895