Online Trials

Dear J-

New Year Resolution times are nearly upon us and one that I want to have and probably won’t be able to keep is getting more sleep: the sooner I can get to bed, the earlier I’ll be able to wake up, which means that I’ll be able to ride my bike all week next week, or at least until my schedule shifts and I’m no longer able to ride on the vanpool at all. I’ve tried to do the math multiple times and it’s not working out right. In just over a week I’ll have to work twelve hour shifts, and with three of the additional hours consumed by commuting that leaves me with nine hours to sleep and maintain the luxurious online presence I’ve become accustomed to.

I’m thinking that I’m going to want more than the six hours I’m getting now in order to compensate for the shifting schedules (two weeks on nights, then two weeks on days; I figure I’m going to be pretty scrambled by the end of the outage) and I don’t want to shortchange my family so things may go dark for a few weeks. And for this to be the source of my anxiety, more than twelve hour days and what I do at home and work — this online life — makes me think that I must have my priorities skewed beyond belief. Right now as soon as I get home it seems like I jump on the computer after a hurried greeting.

In the middle of stories and getting figgy ready for bed: online. While she’s watching a movie, or some video, I’ll hang out nearby: on my phone. I’ve become accustomed to getting and reading feeds online and that’s made me knowledgable about the current memes but hasn’t really done much for me in terms of actual knowledge or useful life skills. Instead of finding ways to make figgy or Calcifer laugh I amuse myself by laughing at people via FML. Other people may not but I find myself lost in social networks at times: it’s nice to keep up and see what’s going on, but I need to rethink the priorities in my life..

Mike

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Once again, the bellybutton

Dear J-

I must have this deathly fear of being forgotten, since it seems like all I do lately is hide things around the house for people to find in the event of my demise (much like this correspondence, in fact). I put away a box of letters (daddy, what are letters? well, in the days before e-mail …) after flipping through and taking stock of where I sat in the grand scheme of things; by far, theVet has sent me the most, back when I had time to write, back when I had the ticket to write.

It pervades my life, this drive for quantity over quality. The shelves are groaning under the weight of obsolescent audio disc players (TDA1541 and CDM-2 seems to be the magic bullet for me). I’m throwing some game systems in the shed, having had no time to play anything but the latest and greatest, and even then only a few games. Man, this growing up and cleaning up is tough.

But of all the choices I’ve made — not keeping up with as many people as I’m willing to meet in this world has got to be the worst, most boneheaded one. Hi, how are you? Here I am. Let me write to you, talk to you, get to know you — and then disappear, ha ha! It’s mysterious, not knowing what happened, it means that anything could have taken place between now and then. It’s just another manifestation of Clark Kent-itis, isn’t it? As long as I can get people thinking about me, that means that I’m not nearly as invisible as I thought. And Clark, buddy, the glasses aren’t fooling anyone. How long do I think I can keep the charade moving along? Where do I see myself going with this, with life, with anything?

As I’ve said before, it’s an ordinary sort of goal in life, and yet I don’t want that forever, do I? Growing up, house in the city, couple of cars, some kids drawing on the walls, big screen TV, running water, vacuuming Saturday afternoons drinking with shoes off stereo hifi robe slippers dog by the fire vacations on Maui bikes on the beach sunsets sunrise spa pool trivia reality shows carpool asleep on the couch by nine …

There’s too many ways to numb ourselves to life, ways to pass the time. How much easier and uninteresting is it to spend the entire weekend indoors in a video-induced stupor without once bothering to shake your neighbor’s hand, visit family (why do we always wait for holidays as an excuse?), or call and reconnect? I’m not ready yet, I think. I keep trying to be a better man, and it’s not easy, never was.

Mike