No, not the moon, it's in orbit of course. In fact, here's a pic of it that I snapped from a live stream just a moment ago. It's undergoing a lunar eclipse right now.
Awesome astronomical events like lunar eclipses were once revered, or reviled, depending on the mood of the interpreter, as auspicious harbingers of change. Again, whether that be good or bad change would be up to the viewer.
Lately I've experienced quite a few things that could indicate there are going to be significant changes soon.
Ozempic appears to have totally failed me. Well I say that but as I admitted to Ms. Gonzalez, my nurse practitioner, I don't really know if it's the drug no longer having beneficial effects or if I am overriding the drug's influence through renewed bad habits. Yep, I've been drinking again. Oh not as bad as it used to be, arguably, but on average a 12-pack a week. Plus I've had a few nights, nay, many nights recently where I've gobbled down a pint or two of either Ben & Jerry's, Haagen-Dazs, or Talenti, whichever be on sale. Needless to say, I've regained 10 or so pounds and my A1c is 8.0. I put myself back on Metformin and Glimepiride and admitted this to my practitioner. She seems to agree that if that's what needs to be done then so be it. Furthermore, she increased the Ozempic dosage to 2 mg, replaced Jardiance with Farxiga and introduced Gabapentin to deal with my nerve damaged feet (and maybe my psych-issues). Yep, I'm a mess.
But there's more than just health issues. My daily pattern of wake up, eat, mess around on the computer, watch TV, go back to the computer, go back to the TV, eat, go back to the computer, eat, etc, etc, etc. Just ain't cutting it anymore. I'm actually getting bored. What? Bored of my perfect retired life? The life I've dreamed of for my, well, entire life? And it's more than just the ol' Peggy Lee melancholy wail.
And then there's the old argument about finances. Will what I have last? I've done the math, and it looks good, as I've explained, but then again, unlike my lifelong enduring practice of favoring run-on sentences, and my self-perceived, perhaps self-deceived, supposed fluence in English, math was never one of my strong suits. One of my Quirkymen on YouTube is being ripped to shreds by his trolls, for a few reasons, but prime among them is his assertation that social security should be taken as soon as possible at the age of 62. For years, this has been my contention as well, but these trolls seem to think that's a pretty bad idea. I know why, of course. Boomers have been fed since childhood the idea that you should work 'till you're no longer able to, not until you can nuzzle up your wrinkly puss to start sucking on the government teat ASAP. Well how noble for them. But I no longer hold that illusion and I have nary spent a day ever having any moral compunctions regarding that. I'm grabbing that hook up as soon as it's available.
But of course, it does make me wonder, what if I actually live a long life? As I've stated many times, I really don't expect to live far into my 70s, if I can make it to that milestone at all. But then again, Dear Old Daddy is going to be 84 in just a few days. On Easter Sunday in fact. Just like my birthday last year was on Easter Sunday. Ooh, how eerie.
My birthday is traditionally known for only having the quirkiness of never raining wherever I am on that day. But of course this was proven false a few years ago as it pretty much poured throughout most of the day as I sat on a cruise ship at a pier in Cozumel, Mexico. This year my birthday occurs one day late for the big total solar eclipse, which coincidentally will first be witnessed by viewers in North America as it embarks across the continent starting with Mazatlán, Mexico.
Ironic, isn't it? We can see patterns in pretty much unrelated events yet our brain puts these together and assembles some sort of meaning to them. And these interpretations then influence our behavior and contribute towards the perceived outcomes.
Ironic times call for celestial harbinger events like rain, moon shadows and the rising "Son" on your birthday.
EDIT: Later, I zoomed over to Publix liquors, got me a 12-pack and proceeded to proceed, as it were. Right after the fifth bottle of the on-sale selection, Pacifico, a beer I don't remember trying before, I felt Ozempic-y and just stopped. I rested for a while, then solemnly proceeded to dump the rest down the sink. As I packed the still-cold empty bottles back into the box, readying it for garbage disposal, I noticed the inscription on the side of the box indicating the origin of this brand: Mazatlán, Mexico. I saved a cap as a memento.