Weeknotes: January 19–23, 2026
Monday, January 19
I dream intensely, though when I wake, I can't remember any details. In the receding darkness, I stand with my coffee at the window, watching a snow squall whip down the street. Today is Martin Luther King Jr. Day — no work or school, though I end up devoting time to both.
In the afternoon, I drive into town to buy ink cartridges for my printer. Arctic winds shoulder my little car as I try to stay in my lane amid the blowing snow. Minutes later, sunlight pierces my dirty windshield — it's a day of extremes.
Tuesday, January 20
The morning temperature is 2° F with a wind chill around -15°. I light a candle at my desk for visual warmth and work steadily alongside it all day. At 4 PM, I go for a run. The first two miles are frigid, but after that, I'm quite comfortable.
Let this serve as the millionth reminder that I always feel happier after I:
Go for a run (especially in winter)
Press record (it doesn't matter the song or instrument)
Having taken care of the former, I spend the rest of the evening doing the latter, while avoiding a number of less appealing tasks. It's a tough world out there — try to make yourself happy.
Wednesday, January 21
From the online biography for experimental Egyptian oudist Aly Eissa:
Survivors of his first two performances highly recommend Eissa's music.
As someone who churns out musician bios all week, I appreciate this kind of humor — it endears me to the artist. Amid the deluge of hyperbolic press releases I receive are occasional jewels of language. Last year, I came across the phrase "aqueous pursuit" in a press release and I've been trying to fit it into a song ever since.
Thursday, January 22
The curtains open on heavy snowfall, followed by a morning of sharp sunlight. I break in a new pair of running shoes and listen to the Swedish band Dina Ögon, who sound like sun and snow.
Tonight is K's Gen X-themed birthday party at a vintage arcade in Saline. I pull out my old Lite-Brite and design her a logo. There are only a limited amount of colored pegs left in the box, so I have to be creative with my color scheme. When I was 16, I saw the influential power pop band Jellyfish in Detroit — it was a formative show for me. On stage, they had recreated their logo on a vintage Lite-Brite.
At the arcade, I visit with old friends, drink champagne, and play Centipede and Wizard of Wor. Thin Lizzy and Heart play over the P.A., fusing with the nostalgic burble of chiptune themes and laughter.
Friday, January 23
Tonight‘s casualty is issue No. 1 of Weird Walk, the wonderful U.K. zine I bought from Wyrd Byrd. Islay's protests have become more frequent — she must really be feeling the winter doldrums. Last week she ate part of my book light. She was an occasional chewer in her younger years, but this destruction of books and related property has become a regular behavior of her senior years. For a dog with chronic pancreatitis, she sure can stomach a lot of foreign objects. But, give her one dollop of actual fat, and she barfs for days.
LAST CALL:
On Friday, January 30, I will hand over the keys to my longtime post office box in Ann Arbor. Like so many of that city's addresses, its rent has become unbearable. I'll have more to say next week, but since it has been a frequent subject in this blog, I'm giving you advance notice.
You have one last chance to say goodbye, but you must act swiftly! Few business days remain.
Send fan mail, eulogies, drawings, and any other correspondence to:
Timothy Monger
P.O. Box 8036
Ann Arbor, MI 48107
Incidentally, I turn 49 the following day — birthday cards will also be accepted.