11:53 a.m. - May 23, 2006
A Lame Effort, Really, But I Tried...
I�m sitting in my office today on a gorgeous day.
I�m writing some reports.
I�m working on a couple of issues with computer services.
I�m wishing I could play hooky, and go frolic and romp in the park.
But I can�t; I don�t have the guts to play hooky.
Kind of sad, really, isn�t it. A grown man, pining for the outside yet he doesn�t have the �nads to do anything about it.
Oh, sure, I�ll be outside soon enough. I need to go by the post office to mail something, and get lunch. And then at 5:00 I have to cover two softball games for the paper. (It�s sectional time, and well, I gets paid for it, so I�m doing it!)
Oh sure, I was just complaining about the rain, and now I�m semi complaining about the sun. Actually, I�m not complaining about the sunshine and blue sky after all. I�m complaining that I can�t GO outside.
I need a day like this.
Last night wasn�t so good, really.
It started out pretty darn good.
I covered an exciting game, and I actually got home in time to wish Katie good night.
I then cleaned my car out so Liz could make it presentable for my brother to borrow when he�s in town.
I watched a classic episode of Star Trek, where they beam down to the planet where the natives are controlled by a machine, and Chekov and this bird teach David Soul how to get his freak on. The funniest thing about this episode was Kirk was COMPLAINING that Chekov and his girlfriend were being amorous on duty.
James T. Pot Kettle Black Kirk.
I got the dishes done as well.
But then�well...it all went downhill.
Something happened at home that I am sworn to secrecy over�lets just say I�m not the only klutz.
I upset one of my dear friends by possibly being to sensitive and possibly not reading the entire story, which caused some angst on both counts. I hate angst. Angst, bad. Friends, good.
The story I wrote about the great game I saw didn�t come easy, and I think they messed it up when they typeset it too. I know I need an editor (as you can see) but what I see is NOT what I wrote. At least I HOPE it wasn�t what I wrote.
Liz and I both realized we were being total stressballs, and that�s bleeding over into our relationship and Katie�s sensing it as well, so she�s acting up. So we�re going to try, really try, to be less stressy in spite of the home invasion, etc.
And I was up way way way too late and have too much to do today to take a nap. Plus, if I napped, Liz would eviscerate me on the spot, bare handed, I�m sure, because of the stuff that still needs to be done.
Because of my family coming, I need to take a couple of partial days off, so I can�t really play hooky today anyway.
So I sit here, and look at numbers, and look at trends, and think.
I look at the sunshine and long to be a butterfly, flitting around here, there and everywhere.
Well, OK, maybe not have the lifespan of a butterfly, or the predators of same, but just the happy floating breezy part of the life of a butterfly.
The tunes in my office are rockin�, the work is being done, and the sun is out. Even though there�s stress at home, there�s really nothing to complain about. We�ll get through it, even as I write this disjointed, half-assed essay.
Because I�m too tired for a full one today, gang. And now, I�m off to the sunshine!
