Reboot #1,305 — But Who’s Counting?

 

Let’s just get this out of the way: yes, this is another site reboot. But unlike the previous 1,304, this one comes with a better understanding of who I am — neurospicy brain, chronic perfectionism, and all. 

Over the last few years, I’ve been on an exhausting and enlightening journey. Not a Lord of the Rings-style journey with sweeping scores and lembas bread, but a very personal, often messy trek through depression, anxiety, executive dysfunction, self-doubt, and learning what it actually means to be neurodivergent. And as much as I’d like to pretend that some dramatic musical swell signals the next chapter of my life — cue a barbershop quartet reprising “76 Trombones” — the truth is, this reboot is not about blowing things up. It’s about accepting that I don’t need to. 

In the past, I treated every site lull like a tragedy. I’d spiral into guilt, self-blame, and an overwhelming belief that I needed to reinvent everything just to be “worthy” of writing again. But I’ve realized that the site was never broken. I was just tired, overwhelmed, and trying to write like someone who didn’t have a tangle of mental hurdles and a full-time role as Dad, Husband, Dog-Walker, Podcast Host, and Emotional Support Human to all family members (including myself). 

So this time? The reboot is gentler. Less “hard reset” and more “soft refresh.” 

What’s Actually Changing? 

I’m still aiming for consistent daily content, but with flexibility and self-compassion built in. I’ll still do reviews, essays, parenting reflections, and pop culture dissections with my signature blend of heart and ridiculous analogies. I’ll just stop demanding that each one be an Oscar speech disguised as a blog post. 

The guiding star now? Connection over perfection. Showing up honestly. Letting my brain do its whirlwind dance and trusting that someone out there might find value in the chaos. 

The 2025-ish Plan (Subject to Shiny Object Syndrome) 

1. Movie Reviews Galore: MCU, Disney animation, podcast picks, 2025 releases, older classics — you name it. Some might be 1,200-word meditations, others might be “This movie slapped, the end.” 

2. The Mental Health Manifesto: A personal, brutally honest piece about my battles with depression, the weight of being undiagnosed for most of my life, and how I’m rebuilding a life that fits me instead of punishing myself for not fitting into everyone else’s expectations. 

3. The Music Man Reflection: A piece blending community theatre, performance anxiety, unexpected joy, and how my neurodivergent brain processes storytelling, nostalgia, and belonging. 

4. Serialized Fiction Fridays: It’s coming. I swear. I’ve said that before, but this time I’m saying it with medication and therapy on my side. 

5. Pop Culture Roundups: Monthly logs of movies, books, shows, podcasts, and pop culture odds and ends. Some might be mini-reviews. Others might be fever dreams. You’ve been warned. 

6. Hot Takes, Cold Coffee: Quick riffs on movie news, box office oddities, and why trailers either excite me or make me feel like I’ve watched the entire movie already. 

7. Parenting Through a Neurodivergent Lens: Honest looks at fatherhood, including how I navigate big emotions, sensory overload, and the chaos of family life while trying to stay present, creative, and kind. 

8. Tributes and Second Chances: Belated tributes to actors and creators who meant something to me but got lost in the shuffle of life and overwhelm. Because it’s never too late to say thank you. 

9. Retro Wrestling & Adventure Game Nostalgia: I still haven’t decided on the style. But I will write about that 1989 Royal Rumble and the time I couldn’t get past the yeti puzzle in King’s Quest V. 

10. Creative Process Explorations: The messy, nonlinear, magical way my brain tries to tell stories — and why I’m learning to stop judging it. 

11. Pieces That Exist Just Because: Some stuff will be weird. Some stuff will be silly. Some might make sense only to me. I give myself full permission to publish those anyway. 

What Matters Most 

I’m not chasing some imaginary algorithm. I’m not trying to be the most polished critic or the most productive writer. I just want to write honestly and consistently, and maybe connect with a few people who see themselves in what I share — the flaws, the fire, the flailing, all of it. And yes, some pieces this year will still be throwaway posts. But many will also be deeply meaningful. And all of them — even the messy ones — are a reminder that I’m still here. I’m still creating. I’m still moving forward. 

Thank you for walking this winding, wacky road with me. Here’s to the soft reboot. Let’s see where it takes us.