Tag: Life

  • Distracted Today

    I set a schedule for myself and I try to stick to it. Wednesday is the one day of the week that is all my own. I don’t have any chores to take care of, no obligations to the family other than dropping off and picking the kid up from school. Wednesday is the day that I read short stories, write a review of one, and then work on my other writing.

    But not today.

    Everything has felt a little off.

    It started like normal. Got the family up, kid off to school, and went to the gym. Got home, settled in on the couch with a coffee, and started making the rounds of reading short fiction online, and in magazines. And I read for two hours, about 8 different stories, but my mind kept pulling me out of what I was doing. I was having trouble focusing, you know, just an overall difficulty at completing the simple task of reading, and thinking about what I had just read.

    It was a malaise that was coming over and around me. I was doing something for myself, that I enjoy doing, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I should be doing something else. Something practical. Reading this morning started to feel like I was hiding out, avoiding, procrastinating away from what I should really be doing with my time.

    My mind wanted me to think about money and finances.

    We have a plan, which we have stuck to, but we hit a rough patch yesterday. Surprise medical bills, which delays our ability to pay down the debt. There is a chance that things could improve, but for the improvement to happen, I need to get a job.

    And that’s what is gnawing at me today; should I really be sitting around on the couch reading? Should I write a blog, when I should be updating my resume, searching Indeed?

    Clearly, I opted for the blog. I mean, I’m going to look for a job after lunch, and then get back to reading.

  • It Snowed

    It snowed last night. That was cool. We haven’t received any snow this year in NYC, and it feels really weird. I am aware that this might become the new normal for the region. Warmer than average temperatures, then a bomb blizzard, then back to above normal temps. When do we get to the point that this is now normal? I think you get there when all of the people who remember what it was like before have died off.

    Yikes! There’s your dark take on a Tuesday.

    The nice thing about our three inches of snow was that it made walking the kid to school an exercise of fun and excitement. She got to put on her snow shoes, which, obviously, she hasn’t had a chance to wear. And the best part was her walking in all the spots of fresh snow no one had touched yet. She was giddy, and I am sure it has made sitting in class today very difficult.

    For me, I feel like I have been granted the first season of the year. It really isn’t Winter around here until there is snow. You know. You need flowers in the Spring, heat in the Summer, and leaves changing in the Fall. It’s part of the deal. And the older I get, the more I need it to happen. The cliché is for old people to move South or West, get out of the cold and live in the heat. But I find myself running in the opposite direction. I want to see the passage of time, the cycle continue and renew.

    Let’s face it, as some people get older, they want to be as comfortable as possible, which makes complete sense. You have worked hard, now you want to relax and enjoy the final years, and be as predictably comfortable as possible. Not knocking it, and I may want that someday.

    But what I want now is to see the changes come. To count my Winters and Summers, and experience the seasons. Has being comfortable ever spurned growth? Maybe I’m not ready to stop the wheel of time in life. Maybe I need to see the passage of time to know that I have a place in it. (I’m putting a lot on these three inches of snow, I know that.) Maybe seasons remind me that there is something bigger than me out there.

    (Psst! If you enjoyed, pleas take a moment and give this post a “like.” I, ahh…, I need the algorithm to kick me up a notch. Thanks.)

  • Thoughts on Time and Settling (Unedited)

    The wife and I made a promise to each other for 2023. I don’t want to call it a resolution, because those are stupid, and doomed to fail. The promise we made was twofold:

    “No more wasting time, and no more settling.”

    This isn’t self-help garbage, like the “Hang in There” kitten poster. This is a pragmatic reminder.

    We do waste an enormous amount of time each day. Looking at our phones is the biggest culprit. But also, mindless eating while looking at the tv. Staying up late to stay up late (that one’s all me) and I have to go back and mention the phones again, because, you know, phones will eat up hours of your day. See, and this time wasting leads to us having to settle on things, because we haven’t given ourselves enough time to accomplish the things we want to do. It can be a vicious cycle, and we’d like to bust out of unhealthy cycles.

    And like all changes in life, no one really likes it, and it’s hard to follow though on.

    The wife is doing better than I. She is making it to yoga on the scheduled days, and going to bed on time. I can’t seem to get to the gym more than twice a week, and that should increase to at least three to four days a week. Like I said above, I’m still not making it to bed on time, which means I’m only getting like six hours of sleep.

    And as we start the game of setting goals and trying to achieve them as a family, I can’t shake the feeling that there is a clock, and I am running out of time. Maybe it has to do with being in my mid-forties, which I have been thinking about a lot of late, and that I might need to have to make some tough choices; I can’t do it all – something will have to fall to the wayside and be left behind.

    I have been with my wife for seventeen years, married for twelve, and they have been good years. We have a kid we love, and want to provide for, which is the real motivation for this. We will only have so much time with her, and then she will be out there in the world. We need to be parents that she can count on, and follow through when we say we are going to do something.

  • Small Country Cemetery

    This weekend, the family and I, including the dog, started up hiking again. This is our third year, and I have mentioned it before, I am really looking forward to it. As New Yorkers, getting to the location of our hikes is half the battle. On average, we have to dive about 45 minutes out of the City, before we can hit some more rugged nature trails, and if we want to try our hand at more moderately difficult paths that are less trafficked, then we have to go an hour to an hour and a half away.

    Such was the case this weekend. We had decided to hit up Mountain Lakes Park in Westchester County, right on the New York/Connecticut border. This was our first time out there, and Google Maps ended up failing us. The app said we had arrived, but we were in the middle of a country road, surrounded by horse farms and BMW’s. So, I pulled the car over to the first public parking space I could find, which ended up being a cemetery off of June Road and 116.

    After I had figured out that we were like five minutes away from our destination, the wife suggested that we stroll through the cemetery; see what we can see. As far as I could tell, people were buried there from the 1780 to the present day. Quite a few Revolutionary War Veterans were there, from the 4th New York Militia. My seven-year-old daughter, who is very curious and inquisitive, had lots of questions for us. Why were so many people with the same name buried together? Do you have to be buried together if you are married? And sadly, she observed that many of the graves were for children, and wanted to know why so many kids died long ago? All good and honest questions that I would expect her to ask.

    Because families used to always live near each other, and married people normally want to be with each other forever, and sadly, medicine wasn’t that advanced long ago, and kids who got sick would sometimes die.

    But the kid kept asking us if we, me and the wife, wanted to be buried together. “I guess,” was my answer, not because I’m unsure we should spend eternity together, but because we never talked about it.

    The wife wants to be eco-buried so she can be plant food for a tree. I can live with that.

    I want to be buried someplace quiet and just have a boulder for a headstone. Like Jackson Pollock did. Only my name on it.

    We decided that whomever dies first, that their wishes should be honored, and the other one has to do the same.

    Seems fair. Either a tree or a boulder.

    Very Taoist in a sense.

  • Money

    I was trying this morning to write a blog, and I just couldn’t get anything to stick. The reason for that is that I had to sort out what was going on with our bank, car insurance and the shop working on our car. And the faster that I tried to get it all sorted out, the longer it took. Finally, at 11am, I gave up on the idea of getting a blog done out my self-appointed deadline, and just gave in to doing on the family budget for the month.

    Now that I’m at the local library to write, I’m trying again to blog. I sat here at the main table for a minute or two trying to focus on some literary or political point that I wanted to make, or maybe crafting a 300 word joke. But, what is on my mind is money. Well, rather the lack of it, and the attempt to get on top of it.

    Yes, yes, we all know the cultural norm of not talking about money, as it is embarrassing for someone, or at least, we are told someone will get embarrassed if the conversation happens. I don’t think I have ever hidden the fact that my family has a large amount of credit card debt, student loans, and we have a car. It’s a chunk of money, but not insurmountable to take care of. We are fine; no one in our house goes hungry or lacking what they need. Out level of indebtedness is best described as having to plan in advance and save. If we want to do something big, we just have to plan for it, and save.

    But it does ware me down. The last time that I had no debt around my neck was when I was twenty-two. (Oh, what carefree days those were. I used to pay cash for things.) At forty-five, I would like to own a home, pay for the kid’s college, and maybe retire. The normal American Dream shit. BUT, I’m forty-five and I have none of those things. Sure, we are getting closer each day, but we still haven’t arrived.

    And this is what keeps me up at night, if I let myself think about it; I don’t want my daughter to have it worse than I did as a kid. There are days, like today, where that thought is hard to shake, and I feel like I’m not getting it done.

    At fort-five, I do know somethings about myself. Like, I’ll go to bed worrying about this stuff, and then in the morning, I’ll get up and try again to make it better.