Sitting here drinking beer and reflecting on my day. A Little Sumpin’ Wild from Lagunitas, it’s number 2, and maybe it’s a good descriptor of the day, but mostly probably not. The Little Sumpin’ Sumpin’ would probably be more accurate, but I don’t have a 6-pack of that.
It wasn’t my best day. It wasn’t my worst. I think there was a battle I’m not sure I intended to start, and I’m not sure if I won or lost or if there was no battle at all. I wish there wasn’t a battle. I hope there wasn’t a battle. This is work stuff. It’s professional. I’m just trying to do my job. But sometimes I can be brash or too direct and I still have ample to learn. I often think of a line, it’s just a brief portion of a line, and it’s from a song by Brother Ali: “I’m not arrogant—oh shit, well yeah, I’m arrogant.” (When the Beat Comes In. I highly recommend Brother Ali.)
I just put on my favorite sleepy-time album: Everything is One by Pete Francis and Craig Dreyer. I think it’s Craig. Francis/Dreyer: that I know. And I listened to this album nightly when I was in Costa Rica for 10 days by myself several years back and it still holds such a place in my heart, and I still wind down to it often. I’m probably listening to this more often than not when I’m writing these entries. Tonight I really feel uncertain…about what, I’m not certain. I’m just not in a place I feel comfortable. It’ll pass, I’m reasonably confident. Tomorrow is a new day. But given all the drama and the fact it’s so off-topic from the “why” of this blog and it’s nothing anyone wants or really needs to hear about, most likely, I should just move on.
Liam had a rough night last night, unlike any we’ve known. He’d fallen asleep, then woke up around 10:00 screaming and crying and I tried to console him and he wouldn’t calm down and Angie tried to console him and the usual mommy magic wasn’t working and he cried and screamed and wailed longer than we’ve ever known him to do. Thirty minutes, forty, an hour…calmed down…then a repeat. It was hard on all of us, but ultimately he slept on Angie in our bed and we got rest, although it maybe wasn’t the best rest, especially since it didn’t really start until after midnight.
I actually woke up in a good mood, a bit before seven, and I’d done most of my garden stuff last night, including watering, so I just browsed a bit then came in and got in the shower and went to Bella Bru and got a lemon poppy seed (how often I type poopy seed, then have to correct it…) and large mocha. I got to work in good spirits and set out to do good work. At this point, my office chair has been completely replaced by my exercise ball, and I sit and bounce and sometimes just balance with my feet off the floor. I started with music but was really trying to concentrate so I turned it off. I researched. I built a case. I presented it wrong, and I learned some lessons. See Brother Ali quote above.
I’m still analyzing it all. I’m still thinking. Planning. Confident…then regretful…then okay. My vagueness about these things is likely annoying, and I’m still off-track from the “why” of the blog.
Okay, I was at the office and on the ball. There were highs and lows and OH MY GOD’s. There was also a banana and an apple and lots of almonds, but no sammich today. I stayed later than normal, risking a total schedule fuckup for Liam, which did come to fruition. But I had things to work out. Interactions. Apologies. Progressions. I think something positive came out of the day…maybe more than one thing…but I need more time to assess that.
At one point I took out my angers on some pushups, 20 or so, feet up on the ball. I got around to picking Liam up at 2:00, and he was asleep, but he woke up and didn’t go back to sleep but was tired for a while, and all of that was fine. Documents to review, documents to write, interviews set up. Believe it or not, these things all got done. I worked a bit late to ensure it.
I made myself stop working around 5:30 or so and dressed for a run. I pushed Liam in the stroller and took Elba along with us and actually timed myself, and I’m not adding the Forerunner map because I’m just not motivated to, but the first mile was at a 7-minute pace and the only limiting factor was Elba, which is fine, and we finished 3.5 miles with an average 7:30 pace. I think my knee is mostly okay, though I’m not positive, and I sorta wanna ice it just because, but I try to think it’s okay and it will be okay. I was glad to get a good run in.
When we got back from the run, Angie still wasn’t home (she was at the gym) and I decided to strap the helmet on Liam and give the Strider Bike a try again, and he was all over it this time. We went up and down a side street and he just walked along with the bike between his legs (that’s the point right now) and was realizing he can steer a bit and a few times I picked his feet up and sat him on the seat and pushed him along and he was squealing in delight and it was really pretty wonderful. These things make work irrelevant; they make work go away. These moments are the reasons we’re here, I think. Sure, work allows these things—I get that. It doesn’t change the fact. Or my opinion, at least.
We worked out way to the backyard and Angie came home and was pleased to see Liam on his bike and he pushed it around the backyard a bit and I picked some tomatoes. There were tacos to be made and dog food to be purchased and I gave Angie the choice, so she stayed home to spend time with Liam and I went to get our expensive dog food and bought some cat food, too. (Stupid cats. Hey, why don’t you puke, poop, and/or pee in various places around the house? What’s your value, again? Oh, you’re cats. Okay.)
I just switched to a glass of wine. I had beer with dinner and the beginning of this blog. I had 4 beef tacos on hard shells with onions and lettuce and cheese and taco sauce, and I had one on a soft shell. I was hungry. I haven’t been eating much dessert lately.
Atypical. I keep saying this blog, so far, is an atypical snapshot of my life and I won’t explain it, but it’s true. Diet- and exercise-wise it is not, but in other ways it is. Mood-wise it is. Dessert-wise it is.
We watched some Bachelor Pad. I read Shel to Liam. I love reading Shel to Liam. I really do. It’s something I cherish each night. He hadn’t napped much and he went to sleep pretty easily. I’m sitting here, reflecting. I’m indifferent about the day, all in all, with a slight lean toward pessimism. Learning is good, though, even if it’s learning from struggle. Maybe that’s the best learning. It reminds me of another blog entry I could write, but then I seem to be having a hard time finding time. Time time time. It’s so important and so limited…and also so arbitrary.
For now, though, I have good things in front of me. I have wife-time in front of me. I love my wife. I love special time with my wife, and I’m gonna go enjoy some of that. I finished Less Than Zero last night. I liked it. I won’t remember what it’s about but, as usual, I’ll remember Ellis’ style. I love his style. He’s a talented writer.
So good night, Mr. Ellis. Sometimes you come through too much in my writing and I acknowledge that, which isn’t to say I’m anywhere near as talented, only that I feel sometimes I grasp on to the rhythms and the runons. Maybe even that’s a misinterpretation of self. Regardless, I wish you a good night. And since most of you who read this probably don’t read it at night, to you I say good day.