My Life Sucks Less...

It started and ended as a pretty good weekend. D and I left first thing Saturday morning to spend time with my Dad and his wife down on his boat. Though I was seasick as usual, we had a pretty good time. I miss hanging out at the marina's. It is fun talking with the other boaters and watching the kids catch baitfish with their Walmart nets. I helped a gentlemen secure his large sportfisherman to the dock with an expertly placed coil on the cleat that I gradually pulled in to snug his vessel tight against the fenders.

I don't have much in common with my Dad and I often struggle with conversation. We have lots of old baggage that gets in the way of a more rewarding father-son relationship. But, I try to be a good son. That is about the best that I can do.

We are on our way back home when we decide to stop in Boston to get a bite and maybe stop by the Instituite of Contemporary Art. We are in the North End enjoying the Feast of St Anthony when J calls me on the cell phone. "There were ambulances at our neighbors house last night" he tells me. Now, I know that this particular neighbor had a party that night and I am immediately alarmed at what might have happend. After 5 different phone calls, I finally track down the details. My neighbor somehow fell out of a 2nd floor window and basically broke her back. It turns out that she is in Boston about to undergo a major operation. I tell her husband that we will join him at the hospital in a few minutes. Normally I enjoy riding the T; it generally feels adventurous. However, today I was anxious to join my neighbor awaiting the outcome of this very risky operation. Four hours later we get the news that the operation went well. Good news... However, she has a long, difficult road ahead of her as she seeks to recover from the physical and emotional trauma that will most certainly haunt her for the rest of her life.

So today, my life sucks less. Guess that makes me less unhappy.

Another day

I am so tired of complaining... It would be great to create a post that went like this -

Today was another great day! Woke up at 5:30 sharp and started the day with a vengence. Got lots of work done around the house, went for a run with B and walked the dog. Had a very productive day at work. Now I am heading home for supper with the family and chores till I go to bed.

Wouldn't that be nice. Instead, I sit here at work, barely motivated, just longing to hold the clicker in my hand, even though I have plenty of work and really need the money. I HAVE TO BREAK THIS PATTERN!!!!

Tomorrow...

I am so lucky... Why am I miserable?.

I am living the American dream. I began my adult life penniless with no education and very little resources. Much like an immigrant from a foreign land. But, I was born in America... I just did not learn much from school and because of my very typical dysfunctional family, I found myself on my own at the tender age of 17. I have had just about every job there is and I now provide technology support services at quite reasonable rates, especially for a grammar school drop out. So I should be happy, right? It is not that I am unhappy.... I know that feeling. Deep dark depression where you don't ask yourself if you should end it all, but how. You spend time considering all the possible methods to alleviate your misery while wresting with the inevitable trail of anguish one leaves in their wake when they depart the world in such a brutal fashion.

I am still medication-free. It is a great feeling but I yearn for the desire to laugh. I great hearty laugh emanating from deep within the belly. I would truly love to laugh with my kids and my wife. But, it is not my nature. I am far too somber and thoughtful for such spontaneity.

Vacation has been great. I have more or less been on vacation for the past six weeks. I only work about 20 hours a week right now and spend lots of time with the family up at the lake in Maine. I have gotten pretty good at wake boarding and pulling aspiring wake boarders. Just about every morning I go down to the Causeway and get my extra-large, tripe shot, no-whipped-cream mocha latte. Leaning back on one of the flimsy green lawn chairs, I sit in front of the Cafe watching the boats and cars go by. Every day I observe the wait-staff washing down the tables and chairs at the neighboring restaurant preparing for the onslaught of the lunch crowd. During all this vacationing-relaxing-putting-my-feet-up time, I often think of putting more effort into my business. I conceive many new ideas that would theoretically help me grow my consulting practice.

Then, I go back home. Faced with a house in need of a paint job, neglected chores and mile-high weeds, I grab the clicker and assume the position. Ahhhhhh... Deep sigh. Am I just lazy? The thought of working on some of the chores causes me genuine physical pain. "Tomorrow", I think. And so it goes. Then, I go back to work. Show up at the clients site with lots of fresh ideas. I get a good running start... Then I fade. No energy or motivation. I look forward to going home and making love to the clicker. Am I just lazy?

This morning I actually lavished some attention on D. Rubbed her back, went for a walk and inquired about work. This is a lot for me lately. Am I just lazy? Possibly a bit selfish?

I have so much more to say.... But I will leave it for another day.