Author: Matthew Groff

  • Nighttime, My Brain Won’t Shut Off

    I went through a brief period where I was sleeping okay, but now I have returned to not sleeping. I get about five hours of sleep a night. I have cut out snacking, screen time, and nightcaps, but it really doesn’t help. What also doesn’t help is that PLUTO TV has an MST3k channel, but late at night they do show “Manhunt in Space” and “The Wild Wild World of Batgirl,” way too often, which, even for MST3k, are pretty unwatchable episodes. Anyway, I have tried melatonin, and that can help me get to sleep for a couple of hours, but then I will make up again.

    I’m having trouble shutting off my mind. I have tried several different tricks, but nothing is really working. I’m good in the day time; I can stay upbeat and focused, get my work done and support the family. But once I start getting ready for bed, all the doubts and regrets, and fears come alive. To be honest, I cannot remember the last time I had a solid good night’s sleep, but I know at one point I did. All of this leads to the feeling of malaise, and the phrase that I keep saying to myself that, “I haven’t been myself in a long time.”

    In my mind, I feel like I have been this way for three years, but just know when I looked at a calendar, I realize that I have been saying this for three year, so in actuality, it’s been six years. Maybe five. I didn’t start not feeling myself over night, but I did feel myself being pulled away from who I am back then.

    I took a job that I was qualified for, but didn’t want to do, and they paid me too much money to do it. I take responsibility for my actions, and in the short run it helped out my family get out of a financial hole, but in the end, I got good at something that I didn’t like doing. (I was warned not to do that in college.) And I haven’t forgiven myself for that. I feel it was that decision that has led me to where I am sitting right now.

    I wish I was one of those people who could let things go, be a goldfish, but I’m not.

    Well… I’m not right now.

    Even as I write this, I feel very edgy, that even tapping a finger on the memories of the past six years will send me down a spiral of negative thoughts, that I won’t be able to pull myself out of.

    Because all of my emotional roads lead back, not to that job, but losing my mother. That happened in the middle of everything, and it’s, just, derailed me.

    Now, I’m not sure what I need do to deal with all of this, but what I think I should do is just keep trying to find a creative way to channel these emotions. And I do, with this, and all the other things I try.

    But, I would really like to sleep at night.

  • Sunday Night Blues

    There are many milestones that we have hit in my young daughter’s life. The vast majority of them are fun and exciting, like Christmas morning, or learning to read.

    And then there was last night, Sunday night, where the kid got very cranky and withdrawn, which is not like her. The wife and I both took turns trying to get out of her, what the problem was. Finally she admitted that she hates Sunday Night’s because the weekend if over.

    Ahhh… The Sunday Night Blues; when one gets the sinking feeling in their stomach that the fun of the weekend is over and they have to return to work/school.

    I was a little surprised because the kid loves school. One of the side effects of the pandemic in our household has been a very strong desire of our daughter to be in a school, surrounded by kids, teachers, and the ability to learn. So, to hear her express her own version of the Sunday Blues was a little sad for me. But I also know it was inevitable.

    I hated Sunday nights for a very long time. I remember being little, eating Sunday dinner, and then watching 60 Minutes, and Murder, She Wrote, and that feeling slowly creeping over me that the good times of the weekend were coming to an end. That I would have to go back to school, and deal with fractions, and remainders, and bullies, and girls, and bus rides and all of that stuff that worried me as a kid. Even as an adult, I would still try and stay up as late as possible on Sunday night, avoiding going to bed, knowing it was a fruitless exercise, that I would still have to sit through passive aggressive staff meetings the next day.

    Sunday nights are still a little weird for me in this new reality. I may not have to go to an office full of assholes, which is clearly a plus, but there is a routine of the week which starts over again, and I have responsibilities to keep. But I don’t dread Monday. Dreading the next day is the worst.

    Now that this milestone has arisen for my daughter, I now wish it would have been kept at bay for a while longer. It’s normal to be a little sad when the fun comes to an end. I just hope I can help the kid to keep looking forward to tomorrow.

  • ODDS and ENDS: Christmas Shopping, Genesis, and Bitcoin Value

    ODDS and ENDS is my continuing series of random thoughts and follow ups…

    We have heeded the words of the economists about the supply chain and have ordered all of the kid’s Christmas gifts, so in a sense, we are done shopping for her. We just have to wait for everything to be delivered, which looks like it will be by Thanksgiving. That just leaves shopping for me and the wife. This will be the second year where we are buying gifts for ourselves, and I have to admit, I prefer it. We set a budget for each of us, and we won’t be disappointed. There is still a little wiggle room for each of us to get a little something for the other, which keeps it a little fun with a surprise on Christmas morning.

    I know nothing about Peter Gabriel era Genesis. I can say that I had no idea that Peter Gabriel was in Genesis until in 1991 or 1992 when Charlie Campbell informed me of this information. I was at Charlie’s house to talk about recording a cable public access show, and we started talking about music we liked, and that’s when he dropped the truth nugget that her preferred Peter Gabriel Genesis, as Phil Collins Genesis was a bunch of sell outs. Even with this knowledge, I never went and listened to Gabriel’s Genesis. Well, until today, when that memory popped into my head, and I have Spotify, so… Selling England By the Pound is the album of the day.

    As of this moment, my Bitcoin has gone down in value. I have lost $2.17, or a -6.2% evaluation. And I was hoping to buy a cup of coffee with my earnings, but now I owe Bitcoin a coffee.

  • Short Story Review: “Detective Dog” by Gish Jen

    (The short story “Detective Dog” by Gish Jen was featured in the November 22nd, 2021 issue of The New Yorker.)

    I don’t like characters in a story who are wealthy. Not that I have anything against a real person being rich, but in fiction, I think it’s a cop-out when an author makes a protagonist’s wealthy. A wealthy character can travel anywhere, do anything, and can be carefree and selfish. Fewer complications means less conflict, and stories need conflict.

    So, when “Detective Dog,” by Gish Jen opens with the line, “No politics, just make money,” and then we find out that Betty, our protagonist, did just that, and made lots of money, my defenses went up. The story is about a Chinese family from Hong Kong, that was living in Vancouver, then moves to New York, and proceeds to buy two more apartments in the building their living in to have more room. Betty is married to Quinten, and they have a seventeen-year-old son Theo, and a nine-year-old adopted son Robert. This family left Vancouver due to racism there, and settle in New York as the pandemic starts. Theo keeps talking about the Hong Kong protests against the Chinese Communist government, and wishes he were there, taking part in the demonstrations. Then we learn that Betty’s uncle is asked by Betty’s sister, Bobby, to smuggle out a letter to Betty, but the uncle destroys the letter, fearing the Communists will discover the letter and jail him. The story takes a turn where Theo wins a large amount of money gambling online, buys a car, and then leaves, not informing his family where he is going. Then Robert gets an extra credit assignment to come up with a mystery, and Betty tells Robert a secret about their family, and I’ll leave it at that; no spoilers.

    There is a lot going on here, which is not a problem, but I feel I’m giving the impression that this is a complicated story. It’s not. It has a very easy flow to it, and the spartan use of details is actually pretty impressive. This is a story that is pared down to the most essential details, and it didn’t feel that a single word or sentence is wasted. But, overall, that story still felt uneven to me. I enjoyed how the story was written, and I couldn’t predict where the plot was taking me, which felt good. And when the end of the story arises, it completely body checked my preconceived notions about telling a story of a wealthy family, and why a person would choose to be wealthy as a goal for their family. What made it uneven to me was Theo’s leaving the family. I get that it was meant to be a parallel in the story structure, but, and this one is big, Betty didn’t seem to be upset about it. Yes, one or two lines was thrown in of Betty or Robert wondering where Theo was, but I found it unrealistic that a mother, in the middle of the Covid Pandemic, would just let her seventeen-year-old son leave, and not try to get him home by calling him, texting his friends, or something. It felt like Theo needed leave so Betty’s final story would have more weight, rather than thinking through what a mother would do if her son ran away. It was a choice that the author made that I had a hard time getting past, which is too bad, as the ending was well worth the read.

  • Feeling Better

    I’m feeling better today. I was able to sleep last night, so I have to admit that all of the everything that was balled up in (the anxiety, short temper, loss of interest) was completely based on the impending surgery.

    And the surgery did go well. The kid was home before lunch, and she was feisty as ever. Her eye is bloodshot, and it does itch, which drives her insane as she can’t touch it, which is the only thing she wants to do. The other funny thing was that she refused to take a nap even though she was completely exhausted. (She gets that from me.) But when she went to bed, she crashed out, lost to the world. Until 6am, when she woke us up. Yeah…

    I am the caregiver today. The wife has meetings and is in the office with the door shut, while the kid and I are on the couch watching tv and movies. Well, I’m trying to read, and clearly, I am putting together a blog post. I know that I will need to make lunch and dinner later. Then, a doctor’s appointment to make sure that the kid’s eye is healing correctly. Somewhere in there, I think we’ll take a walk with the dog.

    And though I am feeling better today, I know that I’m still not back. I can feel my anxiety at the periphery of my vision. I’m still not sure what is the best path for me to take.

    What I do know is that right now, I need to be the best dad that I can be. There is a little copy of me on the couch trying to explain the plot of “Ghost Writer,” and that’s my focus for today.