Let’s take a train to Saint Paul. Let’s pack a kayak for Quincy or Nyack. Let’s get away from it all.
I know. You’re wondering what the hell I’m talking about. You’re looking at your bridge partners, asking yourself if I have finally lost it, if yours truly has given up any semblance of a life outside of the workplace and has finally decided to move directly into the office to get the “40 hours” of work done in 50-60 hours so that I can accommodate and please the powers that be and keep my job while surrendering my social life.
Instead of sounding like a broken record (too late) I will instead focus on the positive, the humorous, and the wicked.
Let’s start with the positive.
My estranged grandfather has cheated death. Again. At this point I reckon he deserves a punch card; with every ten wins against death Roger Thomas gets a free t-shirt. My car, while making a lot of strange noises, still gets me from A to B. The house has yet to burn down, and this week has yielded some interesting leads. I’ve reconnected with some people I consider close confidants. All in all, not a terrible week.
We’ll also slot into this space the fact that my house is in somewhat good condition physically; that I’ve begun to track my day-to-day work activities so I can document what I am asked to do in real time; that I looked at kittens and puppies on the internets last night in some hopefully (and ultimately hopeless) desire to have a meaningful relationship outside of a house plant.
That said this week has not been without challenges. I’m still struggling with sleep. Extended-family relationships. Low-carb diets. I am exhausted all the time while still being able to maintain a weight where smaller fat people slowly rotate around my center of mass. And while I am frustrated, angry, and living through a world of hurt, I continue to sacrifice, work hard, and spend my Sundays praying to the Gods of Employment instead of the Dude In Charge in order to keep the faith, to persevere, and to make deadline.