a good choice
May 25, 2017, 11:15 pm
Filed under: when I grow up

As though the universe wanted to assure that this was a Good Choice, the last few weeks have illustrated all the frustrations:  unreasonable demands, incompetent support, rudeness and a touch of condescending commentary.

Majestic, really.


May 15, 2017, 11:55 pm
Filed under: when I grow up

Sometime a few months ago, a target was picked based on some calculations.  The whole genesis of this number is not memorable, just that it was round and it made sense.  Today, two weeks ahead of schedule, the needle ticked over.  Achieved. Done.

It’s mostly a secret.  Some people know parts but it’s unclear if anyone knows everything, other than the two of us.  It’s better that way.  It also wasn’t a grand plan, just a series of decisions, piece by piece.  The first steps were the hardest but maybe also the most satisfying.  Now it’s just a bunch of numbers, moving up and down.

The future? Wide open.

April 18, 2017, 12:11 am
Filed under: when I grow up, work work work work work

In ten days, finally, finally, everyone can know and the end can begin.

Presently, trying to muster up enough to keep working.  Keep working for three, four, five more days.  The only thing that sounds like a good idea are carbohydrates.  Caffeine does nothing.  Naps are a panacea.

A lot of things are on track.  There’s a spreadsheet with running totals and projections, it says everything is fine.

Everything is fine.

What Happens Next
October 20, 2016, 11:19 pm
Filed under: unrelated thoughts, when I grow up

Waiting for the drilling to stop.  Upstairs, banging, drilling, almost the sound of pressure washing.  Over and over.  The Taj Mahal of renos.

Tick, today’s main event ends.  There’s one more big thing tomorrow.  The month is careening quickly towards being over.  The mostly-joking extended countdown ticks into “reasonable” countdown territory.

There have been a series of moving end points for this project.  First, it was about getting to last summer.  Then, it became about finishing the year.  Now, it’s a question of sometime between February and May, and a the bigger question of a clean cut or a slow fade away.  There’s a nearing reality of actually not doing this anymore, this starts to lead to the question:

What happens next?There is no obvious answer.  Almost five years ago, there was an apparent answer (this).  Before that, there was an answer (quit, travel).  Before that, pure pragmatics (graduate, gain the minimum amount of experience to open the door later).  For the last, oh, fifteen years there have always been fairly apparent steps and doors, everything unfolding in ways that seemed to make sense.  There’s an immediate next part (adventure) but beyond that it’s far less obvious.


The fascinating act of disappearing a relationship from the internet.  No outbursts, no inappropriate emojis soliciting comfort.  The absence having more meaning that the presence of things.

Online breakups are often preluded by the end of joint social media postings by couples who have almost completely documented their relationships in the semi-public (and haven’t had kids and lost so much sleep they can’t remember passwords).  If it’s amicable, there may still be friendly acknowledgment once in awhile, but soon that will stop too.

Suddenly, there will be a profile picture cull.  All those joint shots, blip.  If looking already, a new swipe-right shot will appear (fun! cute) [future life, if this is around in ten more years – that was a jokey reference to Tinder].  This is the major clue.

Is everyone else playing social media detective?

Island Life
October 19, 2016, 12:37 am
Filed under: when I grow up

“You should really go to the farmer’s market.”

“Did you go to the farmer’s market?”

“I’ll drop you off at the farmer’s market, you’re in for a treat, there’s a guy that makes crepes.”

It’s raining.  The farmer’s market is a series of acceptably shielded tents in a muddy field.  Some muffins, produce.  It’s okay.  Welcome to the island.  On the boat, the windows are kept open to ventilate the oil stove as the rain keeps coming.  A stray box of crackers is subsistence when rowing to shore seems crazy.  Eventually, the rain stops, a long hike to the few restaurants and stores begins.  In town, there’s breakfast whose quality is magnified by its rarity.  There is also a video-rental-and-fishing-tackle store doing brisk business.

The ocean is heaving with life:  seals, endless fish, birds.  Clear water all the way down.  Men pump and bail rainwater from rowboats.

The next night disappears into the rocking of the boat.  For the next few days, off the boat, things keep swaying.  At the pub, between the pints and lost land legs, it’s difficult to use a knife and fork.  Nearby, the farmer’s market is replaced with a community apple press.  One early morning, as the sun comes up, we throw our packs together and go.


Between now and an actual holiday.  There are forty four work days, broken up into increments.   A series of projects to complete, none particularly appealing.

And now for the next trick.  Right now a bureaucratic monster lies ahead, a multi headed beast that we are attacking bit by bit.  The kitchen table is a battleground of documents and records.

Every little thing’s gonna be alright.

Four Years
September 19, 2016, 6:56 pm
Filed under: when I grow up, work work work work work

Day 65.  Winter clouds have settled over the hills, the rain comes down a bit harder.  Skip the commute.  Skip the damp, the push onto the bus, the soggy smells Skip trying to pick the right jacket, which is somehow the wrong jacket.  Stay right here.  Make tea.  Wait.

Last week was chaos.  Can’t everyone be cool for, oh, about three more months?  Just do the job?  Ah, no, this is not possible.

Two years ago, the past week would have been wrenching.  Middle of the night wakeup inducing, gut churning.  Today it’s not.  This could end tomorrow and aside from some immediate logistics, things would be fine.  At least, on this side.  Annoying but fine.

Zen AF.
August 10, 2016, 12:46 am
Filed under: when I grow up

Day 93.

A significant portion of the day involves avoiding things that are annoying as the clock runs down.

Exhibit A.  Roid Rager.  Rager calls women “broads.”  He fake tans (really).  He owns a tiny dog and a loud, sort of fast car.  He spends his days in a haze of loud, undeserved self-aggrandizement.

Rager is having a high volume meeting that sounds like he could be aggressively selling a bad used car.  This is a good time for a bowl of soup.

Exhibit B.  The incessant drilling that begins for the last hour of the day.  So high volume that normal speaking becomes difficult.  Reverbrating through the office.

Rather than waiting to see if it will subside, it seems appropriate to just go.

Exhibit C. The fridge.  The fridge is very expensive.  It may or may not work.  Today, it thawed the entire freezer, including some emergency burritos.

Really, just a good excuse to eat burritos.