Posts Tagged ‘monday’

Monday is Okay

21 November 2011

Dear J-

With all the avenues for oversharing I’m finding that there’s no time before bed to sit down and do any reading; befre I know it, the huors of sleep have shrunk down to five or six and I’m getting things ready for tomorrow — laying out clothes, preparing a sandwich, what have you. So with the arrival of three library books that I have wanted to read (Rats Saw God, by Rob Thomas; King Dork by Frank Portman, and Reamde, by Neal Stephenson) I’ve been adoopting the old tactic of a flashlight-under-the-covers to get a little more time in the day.  It’s led me to the conclusion that reading smalll paperbacks is viable but when confronted with the 1000+ page Reamde your options are limited.

I do appreciate a good book, and yet given that I like reading in the dark I think I’m either going to purchase the ebook or wait for the library’s copy to become available. Holding a phone is infinitely less fatiguign than juggling book and flashlighteven if I needed the flashlight (that’s what I tell myself, at least) as part of a disaster preparedness plan (one that haphazardly includes visions of a usb-charging crank-powered radio). There are bigger things to complain about, and more important uses of my time, but this is part of the bedtime routine now and so you make it work.

Over the three days I got used to sleeping in — too used, as it turned out this morning when I confronted the clock with some mounting panic after what I thought was the first snooze.I probably should check the alarm setting, though. We’ve gotten through a year with two kids now and it is a significantly larger amount of work and money (now celebrating our fifth year of buying diapers!) but it’s also been incredibly rewarding as well. We have the mission this week to prepare for Thanksgiving and I’m hoping that it goes as smooothly as our plans last weekend did.



Monday Affirmation

8 August 2011

Dear J-

if you believe the gloom about the government there’s a sea change coming in 2012 before the country ends up as a husk of itself. Between natural disasters and out of control legislators and all the other things I should be terrified of there’s some credence to the whole end-of-the-world idea that’s going around because of the Mayan Calendar, right? I do see my kids as having a far harder row to hoe coming up. Private school may not be an option without me working like mad — as it is I see myself putting in extra time until my actual release date in December to make up for our hemmoraging bank accounts (hey, we can not lift the economy by generously tipping everyone we meet) — and that makes me worry more for the kids.

When I start working long hours it does two things: first less time at home and second less sleep which has its own set of issues. Less time means the kids (especially figgy) become more clingy and as it is it feels like I don’t have enough time — a couple of hours every night usually conflicting with my body’s need to shut down in an unconscious heap. I keep reminding myself how precious time is and wonder why I can’t seem to remember that I pay a huge price every time (around this time each year) we shift to extended hours. Work-life balance is laughable insofar as we examine who wins every time they come into conflict.

You know what though? I have two loving kids and a wife with the patience of Job. I have a job to complain about; I have demands and I’m busy resolving issues which is completely great. We have a house and money in the bank if we need to (and we do) fix the roof or the water heater or dig up pipes. Even the phone I complain about so much seems to have gotten better now that I’ve had the time to explore the idea of rooting and installing a custom ROM (considering something with a Bluetooth HID stack so that I’m not beholden to this built-in keypad). Life is good. 2012 should be better and I have to live up to what my family believes (and expects) from me.


Monday Trip

11 October 2010

Dear J-

Apparently figgy took a trip to the costume store today, where the monsters were crowding the aisles and keeping her from fully enjoying the Princess aisle and its delightful charms. That didn’t stop her from insisting on taking a few treats from the candy bowl on the way out: she walked out with a few pretzel-filled M&Ms* in hand, a few to save for later but the temptation proved too hard to resist and they sadly did not survive the trip home.

All this is secondhand news, though. Indigenous Peoples Day** makes for a relatively easy holiday to miss in all respects save this: every day is a little different with figgy and today was no different, as it were. theVet turned to me earlier this evening and asked me if I’d ever anticipated that someone so small could be so crazy and no, I couldn’t have counted on the entertainment value of her world view: bold, direct, unpredictable.

Work is sometimes like call waiting: we know you’re busy with your life, but we wanted to let you know that you have another call on the line; please be rude and interrupt the person you’re talking to in favor of some random caller. I ignore the call waiting beep with glee; showcase invented that particular tool is sitting on pitchforks yet getting regularly poked with abandon, I like to think. Life keeps happening no matter what kind of big cheese you might think you are.


* You know this only proves the assertion that they’re willing to stick anything into those M&Ms; peanuts were on thing, but what’s next: cheese?

** That’s Columbus Day to the rest of the US.


22 February 2010

Dear J-

It’s back to work with me this morning; funny how six days away can feel both like forever and never at the same time — the amount of unread inbox junk will make it feel like I’ve been away for years, but my watch only shows a few days have ticked by. At this point it’s too soon to make a judgment, but early results are that the surgeon from Scripps is far better than the one from Sharp (or perhaps the pain management has improved in the last five years), as I remember needing every single one of those days off the last time I had this done; I was mostly back to par by Friday this time.

Perhaps we are keeping her too distracted; yesterday and Saturday we pumped a steady stream of movies through to banish thoughts of the intermittent showers through the day, and the results were that we didn’t catch a single accident before it was too late. Yet I know that it’s the way we should be going about it; I can’t help but think that by this time, the diapers are more a convenience for us than for her, as we’re teaching her nothing new by keeping them on. The next trick will be getting things arranged for overnight, but we can’t look too far ahead at this point.

Rainy days and Mondays — especially when they’re the same — always give me the blues, according to the Carpenters; it’s hard to describe what it feels like to be speeding north this morening. Excitement, perhaps, tinged with dread; apprehension, fear, and optimism. First day of school stuff, then; looking forward to seeing everyone again, but maybe under more pleasant circumstances would be nicer.


Monday Blue

6 July 2009

Dear J-

Monday again — a long confluence of events, from the long weekend coming to an end, to having to drive the vanpool, the long stream of Monday issues held over and awaiting a personal touch, and I didn’t get anything done today. Running in place while sitting down, we don’t seem to progress past the crisis of the moment; it’s been a full year since we rolled out this new system, and though it’s become familiar, we still struggle with mundane tasks.

It all feels the same; work is what you make of it, I guess, but each day is starting to feel interchangeable. We’re here at the end of the day, struggles done and house cooling, slowly winding down into night and planning the things I won’t have time to get around to tomorrow. I’m just so tired at this point; our stars keep tracing the same paths overhead, and we keep rolling the same stone uphill. I remind myself it’s been three years — but the last one’s been one long scramble after another; the first two varying degrees of panic over learning the nuances.

Tuesday and sleep will undoubtedly bring relief and re-belief; I wonder if I’m afraid of change, or if cautious is the new chic in this economic climate. What if I had to start over again? What if — who might — where can — why does — when we’re left wondering what’s on the other side of the fence, is it time to explore that other field? Perhaps it’s only Monday; perhaps it’s the lack of sleep and other incentives; perhaps it’s the repetition ad infinitum echoing as far as I can see.


Slow Step

9 June 2008

Dear J-

Sick today; I’ll spend the time on the way home resting and pretending that these various aches and muscle pains don’t portend anything too serious.  It feels like minor things — colds — hit me that much harder once I passed some invisible age marker:  believe what you will, but my throbbing head tells me the true story.  Ironically, I had a medical exam this morning to requalify for vanpool driving duties, and the symptoms were kind enough to hold off until I’d managed to demonstrate some semblance of fitness.  Or perhaps it was the somewhat suspect two-weeks-expired string cheese I packed as a snack, believing that everything prepackaged is chemically preserved into near-mummification and that I could safely ignore the ominous date.

The days I manage to convince myself that I don’t need the fenders inevitably turn out to be the ones with the most threatening atmosphere; it’s not cold outside, but the air is heavy with the promise of moisture to fling.  But it’s not the stuff falling on me that I mind, it’s the stuff my wheels kick up all over my pants and back (during the last rainstorm, the muddy tracks made it look like I’d been run over by several motorcycles, directly over my spine).

Our weekend excursions and dinners may soon find themselves limited to walkable distances; gas keeps rising, the days are longer, and the weather has, besides the unspoken threats, been remarkably cooperative, breezy and sunny, giving you the option of roasting or freezing, depending on the tree cover.  Honestly, maybe it’s just a bad case of mondaywork-itis; as the miles interpose between myself and those concrete domes I find my spirits lifting, low clouds or no.  I’m getting a handle on what I need and can do in the absence of those with serious experience.  I can do this, I say.  And for once I believe it.