A Question of When

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Dear J-

The steady rain all weekend has been our accompaniment today as well, informing all our actions and investing them with perilous consequence. I woke to the steady drumbeat on the roof and immediately resolved to drive to the vanpool, but changed my mind what seemed like a thousand times between the half dreaming state I couldn’t break from and actually walking out the door. I started off on the bike but turned back at the top of the hill before the rain had soaked me completely through, before it was too late. Start out early enough and you have that luxury; lie in bed any longer and you reap that harvest.

My schedule continues to be consistently erratic; last week I spent less time than ever under the pace set by the seventy hour guys and so of course I spent the whole weekend wracked with the sort of guilt that accompanies it, no longer sure that I’m doing much good at home or work. It’s a funny feeling to convince yourself that you owe work, the mobster that demands all the time and love you have and asks for more. Worse yet is the day to day nature of things, schedule shifting fluidly from days to nights and back again, leaving my family wondering if now would be a good time to talk, or eat, or call. Answer is probably not.

Eventually the storms pass and we return to our normally scheduled programming of sun and fun, of regular hours and no more secrets to keep, no surprises waiting to ambush the unprepared. Looking forward to days that will come but for now I don’t mind weathering the storm on the doorstep, snuff together with people I trust.

Mike

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