Dear Santa, I want this:
See more here.
A juggling technophile shares personal stories, challenges, humor and perhaps some political commentary.
Dear Santa, I want this:
See more here.
My head is heavy
My thoughts are deep
I am not tired
But very weak.
…
I knew things were about to get messy so I put on some rubber gloves. I worked it by myself but was getting nowhere then a female sales associate joined me. The two of us grunted, writhed, and struggled but could not get it in despite having used excessive lubricant on the rubber. The tip got messy and we had to stop to clean it. Then it occurred to me to put some lubricant on my finger, insert it in the opening, and rub it around the inside edges. After that it slipped in with ease and I explained, "It just wasn’t enough lube. You had to use more lube." I gave it three screws and was finished. Btw, the headlight on the van is working now.
It’s been 4 weeks now since I lost my wedding ring and my thumb refuses to except that it is gone (thumb keeps running ring finger).
Geek humor: this morning I awoke (the 2nd time) with the clock reading 555. That amused me to no end.
Nothing kickstarts your day quite like a heathy panic attack.
Every now and then I have this short conversation in my head which basically goes, “need more Dire Straits!”
“Act like you want something for Christmas!”
Cathy: "Evan, do you have any self control?!"
Evan, 9: "No but…"
Years ago, I would awaken at 4am and be at the gym by 5am. I would hit the dry sauna then stretch then run some laps, lift some weights, play racket ball, swim a few laps, and finish with some time in the steam room and a shower. It was a great way to start the day. I would finish each day meditating on the day’s events and the day to come and have 20 minutes of stretching. I never felt strong and more mentally fit in my life.
Now, my days start off with bemoaning the lights that automatically turn on at 5:30am and if the dogs and cats are on my legs using them as an excuse to stay under the warm covers another 30 minutes (let’s call that meditation). Then, maybe, I walk to the bus stop with the 9 year old but usually I negotiate with him to drive. I stand at my desk all day..er, most of the day. I do sit occasionally and in meetings. The aerobics come in the evening during the half a dozen or so trips I take up the stairs on errands for the wife or to investigate a bump in the night.
But today that changed! While getting the children’s morning routines started, I dropped to the floor for a set of 8 push ups. This confused Westley, the cat, who decided every time I went down to the floor, that he should head butt me. After 8 situps, I rolled over for 8 crunches to which the cat decided was acceptable but only if he rubbed his face against my cheek. When I turned over for another set of 8 pushups, the headbutting returned. Same with the crunches, more face rubbing and purring. Last, third, set of pushups included 8 more head butts; And the last set of crunches ended with face rubbing and purring. I suspect 20 minutes of stretching would produce a very confused cat. I slipped on some spandex just to make my buttocks sexy for the neighbors then ran around the block. Since I’m typing this, you know I didn’t die…but I gave it my all! Let’s do this again in another 15 years.
I took a vacation. One week to pull my life back together. In that week, I worked on a client project. I worked on my house. I visited relatives I literally have not seen in decades. There was laughter galore. My body aches. I am weary and now wish I had another week to continue this momentum (and possibly rest a little). But alas, my job duties call. I should spend a few more hours tonight working on a client’s project and doing personal finance etc etc. I think I’ll watch a little tv with the wife and try to calm my mind.
When you get to the end of your days, you should be able to look back and say, "That was a fun ride!"
Cathy: "I’m getting in the shower to shave my head."
Cathy: *glowers*
Cathy: "This is why you don’t talk to me before I’ve had my coffee."
Cathy: "Why are you laying on the floor?"
Tommy: "Because it annoys Dad."
At least he is honest.