Nine-and-Twenty: Love and Fear

So, I'm calling it a day today at work... I'll admit it probably behooves me to work hard, try hard, do my best. It looks like another spot is opening up for one of those fabled "next level" jobs and I should probably keep sharp if I want to apply. Based on my feedback from the last one, they were pretty insistent that I should keep going and try. My reticence comes from the nature of the feedback's content itself and my own self-doubt and feeling overwhelmed at my own current job.

Which is to say, you know, the job is a job. Out of pride I would love to move up and on and Be Somebody but at the same time I like to have a job that doesn't consume my every waking thought, and if I did it would have to be for the right reason. Part of me is thinking, once again, "apply and let them tell you why not," but... I just went through that. Like, a month ago. Things, I don't think, have sufficiently changed. I almost regret even being in a position where this is the choice I'm making.

It looked like it was going to rain earlier, but it didn't. I kind of wish it did, as I could go for some gloom right now. I feel it.

I've been in kind of a state since my last post. I'm frazzled, man, you can tell. It's not that I'm overworked and a vacation would fix me up (although it wouldn't hurt) but that I'm simply not great a living right now. That sounds harsh but there's a truth to it.

Last week was busypants. Mel went to the city, then I went to the city for the BBQ, then we both went to the city for a baseball game.

The BBQ was fun until it wasn't. Which oddly, is one of those indicators that maybe I wouldn't be a great fit as a buyer. There were some enjoyable moments, but it's a little cliquey (in the sense that everyone else is part of a big clique and I am not) and as much as I try to break the ice, people just don't seem to know what to do with me. They like me fine, I think, but I very much Do Not Belong, and I felt it. It was one of the first times in a long while where I truly felt my lack of social skills. Or more, that I spent so much time working interiorly on myself, that I have fallen behind on the exterior part that relates to other people. I was always sort of like that, and the pandemic made it worse, since all of my interaction is either with my wife, who knows me very, very well, or with people online, who are ghosts that just drift through. And you know, I try to ask people about themselves and match them with relevant anecdotes about myself, but lately when I dig down deep there's nothing there, no material. For God's sake, one of my only things to say was that I had not managed to read a book someone else was reading (well, the sequel to.) By the end I was feeling what a boring, terrible, uninteresting person I was. ("If you're bored then you're boring...") 

There was some games, mostly a bit of trivia, which I dominated much to everyone's amazement, which started to get old, and made me feel kinda bad, because that was all I had.

I live in my head. I live in these projects where I can't even tell other people about them because they really shouldn't know, because I really shouldn't be doing them, because they really shouldn't exist. They're not good conversation fodder. Which means that a lot of "Who I Am" is wrapped up in something that can and should never be unveiled.

I suppose I could have talked to Chi Hoe and Kate and Don about RuPaul All Stars. That would have given us... five minutes or so.

I left early, when my co-worker Rebecca announced she was heading back to the office and I took the opportunity to walk with her. By that point I'd been at the thing for four hours or so and was getting a bit exhausted. There wasn't really anything in the way of real food anyway. We had a good talk on the way back because, of course, I'm way better at one-on-one conversations. Other than that the whole deal reminded me of when I felt like a pariah back in Regular Office Times.

Despite that, I don't really regret going. Mel wanted me to, and it was at least something different than just sitting around the house taking the afternoon off.

I walked back to Union after putting in a token "Oh yeah, I've got to check on some things too" effort at the office (I didn't really). I ended up getting pizza at Union, which I should have gotten pizza closer to the office because there's Pizzaiolo there instead of Pizza Pizza.

Friday I was back in the office, although there was nobody there at all except for the GM team. I had forgotten my headphones so I spent seemingly half the morning away from my desk searching for some. After my work was done, I went to Mel's office to chill with her and wait for her to be done work so we could go to the game. I made a point to go there instead of meeting up later because her headphones were dying and I had the cord to let her charge (a train ride home with no headphones? Unacceptable!) But it was kinda boring and I had no internet in her office and no data so all I could do was continue to re-read my e-book. Harumph. (It occurs to me I went to the office twice this week and spent 0 time listening to my audiobook, A Feast For Crows.)

We had outside-the-stadium dogs for dinner. The seats were good, but I think we may never go again because the seats are officially too small for Mel (what can I say, she's got hips.) I also probably got up and down more than I should have, since I went for a drink, then again for popcorn (couldn't find any the first time) then for a refill for our souvenir cup. The Jays lost badly, the ride home we were seated next to a kinda prickly Karen-type. (I hesitate to use that word because I do love my aunt and she is not like that.)

Saturday, I had a full-on emotional breakdown. Things.... kinda got to me and I have a hard time owning my feelings so it gets repressed and then it bubbles up. the weird thing is, I think I'm okay, until I realize I am not.

Sunday I just spent feeling sore and bleh. We pointedly did nothing, after all that running around, just watched our shows.

(So like, if this is how we are, what is going to happen if we ever actually have a kid?)

This week has proceeded. I shirked work for writing yesterday and may again before the week is through. Tomorrow is fixing to be busy though. There's lots to do, I'm just not really enthused by it.

That's the thing about work from home... when you don't want to work, you really don't want to work.

That's about where I'll leave it. There's more to say, as always, but I'm tired of writing it and I really just wanted to recap the hot mess that was last week (and allude to this weekend.)

There will be more. The story will continue.

Keep on rockin'

-Scotto

Eight-and-Twenty: Bite of a Snake

Here's the score for tonight, cats and kittens. The wife is out on the town with the girls, leaving her faithful husbandman to batch it up with sushi and wrestling. And laundry, because of course. There hasn't been much going on of note these past day or two except a hectic return to work after an all too brief but very full and frankly emotional weekend at the trailer.

So yes, it was our annual trip to the trailer, which only lasted a weekend because of Mel's unfortunate inability to get away from work (being that she's on a project-based contract.) We kind of threw the trip together semi-last-minute, only deciding which weekend we were finally going to go a week or so in advance by arrangement with mom, who got to see our new patio when she came over to drop off the keys.

Friday was a madd dashh to get everything done, packed, groceries bought and everything ready, and I somewhat shirked my role as IA On Duty to do so, although I did do an intense round of manual allocations for a few hours that afternoon. Grocery shopping was easy enough because we had made a list in advance and new what meals we were going to make. Packing was okay, but not too speedy. But as we were rushing and huffing and puffing to get out the door (what about this, what about that) it was decided we couldn't leave the kitchen in a mess. Harumph. I'll admit, it's nice to have a clean kitchen sometimes and so much work was done the previous weekend to get it that way that I really should have kept it up, but it's hard. That's always my thing, it's hard to make time, it's hard to break away from being plopped on the couch and tired at the end of the day and take an hour or so and do all that, every single night. Sorry, I'm not that guy.

Well, we power-cleaned, loaded the dishwasher, got everything ready, and hit the road. I put on some music from my phone, but was dismayed to find my data cut out and soon we had to rely on the radio. I feel like I was greatly lied to about the coverage level that Freedom provides, and mean to let them know about it sooner or later.

Then the bomb dropped. About a half hour into our 105-minute trip, as I was staring out the window contemplating some Top 40 pop, a thought occurred to me.

I forgot the keys.

I forgot the fucking keys to the fucking trailer.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Fuck!!

I wanted to cry. I wanted to die like Joydrop. I wanted to explode into a million atoms. It was only an extra hour added onto our trip, but we were already a little low key stressed from the effort of getting everything packed up and ready and finally leaving the house an hour or so later than we had hoped, and now this. The thing is, it played so badly into my conception of myself as being hapless, error-prone and absent-minded. As we were getting ready, Mel complained that I was stressing her out watching me pace back and forth trying to get this and that ready, while she reminded me of three or four other things to distract me. I'm not trying to blame her, but I do believe she put me in a distracted headspace where it was possible to forget the keys. But make no mistake, the error was on my head. I accept full responsibility. I had walked past those keys, said, "There they are, grab them before you go" sometime earlier, and then my brain short-circuited.

She stewed, I stewed, attempts were made to break the ice. We processed. I think we handled it like adults but it still stung. We arrived around 9-ish and Mel had further fuel for her fire when she discovered I hadn't put any cans of pop in the cooler, they were all warm (they wouldn't have a chance to get cold in the cooler anyway, but am I going to go out on a limb and tell her that? Fuck no.) As she expressed her displeasure, I reminded her that nobody is allowed to hate me more than I hate myself, that I felt low, like a real worthless piece of shit, and all I wanted was to stop fucking up and make us some extremely late-night burgers. Upon seeing how seriously I was taking all this, she seemed moved and there forward only internally seethed at me. We hugged it out.

Marriage, folks.

Honestly, like, I try but sometimes you cannot overcome your own nature. I am not a planner, I am not organized, I am chaotic, I improvise, I fail, I forget, I mislay objects. If I am not way, way overprepared, then I am way, way, way underprepared. I am a fuckup and I am not saying this to be hard on myself, it is merely a statement of fact. I have to believe that some of it is simply neurology. Simply the limits of the firmware I have in me.

We ate, and we settled in and we watched some Happy Days on the Vancouver retro channel that came through on Mom and Ross' cable.

Saturday, I spent a chunk of the morning wandering the park in search of some spot where I could get data, but my data roaming seemed to be null and void in Spring Valley, even moreso than last year, probably thanks again to our new provier. Hell, I even went so far as to walk up the hill leading to the place. Why was it so important? I don't know, it's pathological. It feels weird and wrong to have no access to the internet on my phone. It's not how I live. You know, twenty-odd years ago I was a freak because of this, and now I'm just normal. Eventually though, I accepted fate and set my phone aside, basically only looking at it in case a text got through or I needed to know the time.

After some breakfast and as we were preparing to go to the water, Aunt Karen arrived to say hi. This was somewhat exciting. In all the times we had ever been at the trailer for however many years, it had only ever been just us, first borrowing Lori's, and now mom's. But we had an open invite to go visit, and we said we would. 

Our first stop though, was the lake. The pool, I had seen, was closed for a private birthday party from 12:30-2:30 so we would have to make do with the lake. There are four bodies of water in Spring Valley: the main lake, the pond on which my mom's trailer (and my childhood one) sits, Lake Tamarac (the quiet, woodsy one that seems most like a retirement community) and Sandy Beach, the one most like a summer getaway. We stopped by the main lake first, but the beach there was pretty unmaintained and a little overgrown with grass, so we decided we'd go see about Sandy. Unfortunately, as we were heading out that way, Mel's foot snagged a little divot in the grass and she collapsed. The poor girl's got weak ankles, they've gone out on her many a time. You could say that her ankle is a real Achilles' heel.

Now the look on her face was more than physical pain, it was pure miserable disappointment. I've seen it before and it kills me, absolutely breaks my heart. She hates when this happens to her because it makes her feel guilty and ashamed, and now there was added disappointment if we were going to have to turn around and go back to the trailer without getting to go in the water. Fuck -- fuck!!

Like a super troopers, we soldiered on. We were going to get to that lake, being that being in water is like half the reason Mel comes to the trailer.

The lake was good, a different experience -- not something that was widely used when I was a kid, because it was new then and kind of off the beaten path (it was most interesting when it was various mounds of sand you could run around on; then it just became this random body of water that wasn't central like the other ones.) The muck was very sinky, we got up to our shins in it, mostly just splashing around, but by the end I had done a little bit of swimming and so did she. We stopped off to see the aunts, then hit the pool once it was clear the party was over and we were free to do so. It isn't always a scorcher when we go up there, but it was this time, and the pool was all the better for it, very refreshing.

We had some lunch then headed back to the aunts. By this time Cam and his girlfriend Paige had arrived (actually we had seen them arriving on our way back but they were in a car and we had to promise to get back to them later for a proper introduction.) We talked with everyone a bit, way better than if it were a full sized family gathering and you have to be more inclusive. We implored them to go ahead and eat in front of us. We hadn't seen these people since Christmas and there was a lot to discuss. Paige is a very sweet girl and she has a good dynamic with Cam, I'm rooting for them, although with her going to Guelph in the fall and him staying in Toronto, it can be hard to make it work.

Not impossible -- I mean, she's not going to be on the moon -- but university is a busy, crazy time.

I offered a few words of wisdom about the future, namely that a pass is a pass and employers don't really care about your transcript. (Cam noted he already knew the expression, "C's get degrees.")

We made s'mores, which Paige was very adept at.

Eventually it got dark and we retired. I tried to make some skewers on the flat top, reasoning that in the dark I wouldn't be able to tell if the chicken was getting cooked. Well surprise surprise the chicken didn't cook evenly anyway. Fuck, fuck. Easy fix, but frustrating as I'm standing there watching the outside get charred while the inside is still pretty pink.

I called this post Bite of the Snake because of all the random occurrences that happened on this trip that really threatened it. It was "snakebit." But you know, it mostly worked out anyway. We watched some Border Security, and some Name That Tune (where some players had an exceptionally pathetic showing) before bed.

It was very hard to sleep. Hot, creaky stiff bed. Trailer stuff, you know.

I spent a lot of the next morning doing dishes, as we had dirtied pretty much every plate and many cups (I try to reuse but it gets away from me.) After breakfast and some reading we hit the pool again. We floated there while some good ole boys played Kid Rock and Luke Bryan and whatnot. Eventually I felt it was not my vibe and we had been there a while, so I kind of dragged Mel out. We missed the aunts, but did see Cam and Paige again as they were going to play mini golf. That was something we had discussed doing but Mel didn't want to cramp their style. Fair enough. We took the paddle boat out and got stuck in some seaweed (not as much of a problem if you're just in the kayak.) Then we had some lunch of leftover burgers and began to get ready to go.

It was, you know, a fair bit. More dishes and tidying, lots of packing and sorting. A little anxiety-creating but we got through it. "Did we get this, did we get that, did you check this and that." I did well, I didn't even forget to turn off the hot water heater, the propane or the water. I think. I drove due to Mel's ankle situation. We put the Arctic Monkeys on the stereo.

We left just as some rain moved in, so we were just in time. It was briefly very heavy but we were driving through it so it cleared up by the time we got to Arthur. No data meant that we had to kind of fly blind through Fergus and beyond, but we actually did a good job, minus a few moments where we weren't sure about turns and it kind of seemed like I was panicking (I'm not great with split-second decisions behind the wheel.)

It was, simply, a long drive with nothing to think about besides making sure we were headed in he right direction.

We ordered pizza on the way home, well pretty much close to home right around Dundas. I dropped Mel off, unloaded the car (because once I got in with that pizza that was it) and went to pick it up. Once I came back, that was the official end of our odyssey and we spent the rest of the night -- such as it was, once again about 9 PM -- watching 90 Day Fiance.

The days since have been busy, and I got a little messed up yesterday although I had a good showing filling in for Maria in the Monday morning meeting (and representing the Portfolio With No Name.) But we did have to disappear for a few hours, which set me back on some stuff, but I recovered. Other than that, pretty good. Like I said, tonight I was on my own, watched Dynamite and ate sushi, laundered. Tomorrow I'm going into the city to potentially go to the Print Day BBQ (potentially not -- there was a gun incident at the park where the party is meant to be) then Friday, if we can somehow make it work, we're going to a Jays game. Busy week for us all around. Trying to cram in as much summer as possible into this summer. The only thing left would be to go to the Ex, which we're not doing.

Well, Mel will be home soon and I've got laundry to turn over. I thought I might have written -- and I guess I did but you know what I mean -- but I'm stepping back from the X-Men blog for a little bit so that I can relax and just be for a few weeks, and the other writing, I'm kind of feeling my way through something but I'm not pushing it. The dream of getting 6, no 5, no 4 pieces written this year stalled out, I hit my limit at 2 -- maybe 3 if there's time -- and I'm not even that disappointed about it. I learned about myself, and I did my best, and I'm still working on it. I made some coin, I'm still making some this month (that said, let's keep it in perspective -- the equivalent of multiple years' worth of work has netted me about one extra paycheck paid out over the course of a year.) Either way it feels good, if not... all-conquering like I had fantasized.

So tonight was quiet. It was this. Nothing wrong with that at all. Not every moment of life needs to have its real estate developed. There needs to be green space, room to breathe. I've had enough of the pressure to succeed (successure?)

Hee.

Keep on rockin'

-Scotto

Seven-and-Twenty: No way for the wheel to roll

There's a bit of a dark cloud hanging over the house today. Literally, as it's been kind of a rainy day and a dreary week, and metaphorically. I can't specifically explain the cause, although there is one and perhaps someday (fingers crossed) we can unpack all of this once it's behind us, but some of it emanates from my wife's situation and some of it mine. I can talk more about mine. Right now I'm just a little restless and unsatisfied. I'm called on to be supportive and caring a lot, and I'm the sort of person who will give and give and give of themselves until they are just fucking empty and that is not healthy, but I live in fear of disappointing someone when they need me to be in their corner. I am definitely not a "put your own oxygen mask on first" person, to my own detriment. But that's really just compounding the existing problems. I am drained and directionless. I don't currently feel much zeal for my job, don't see much of a way forward, and worst of all am feeling less passionate than usual about my external activities. These feelings of negativity come and go but it would be super swell if they did not come at all. My head is a mess.

I was about to characterize summer as a "letdown" which is unfair. It hasn't been all footloose and fancy free, but when has it ever been, in adulthood? We've done our best with the resources available at our disposal. With no ability for Mel to take time off, I haven't taken time off either so I just grind myself down at work. Weekends are either for idle loafting or for seeing everybody, or both. This past weekend, the long weekend, we saw dad and Deb for Deb's belated birthday, caught up on their trip, ruminated on points programs. Saturday, we helped Brandon with a task, going down to the storage unit to help him measure and photograph the giant dresser which is essentially the reason he's still paying for it (and found, to my embarrassment, that I still had a couple of boxes with my names on them there.) I kind of sprung it abruptly the night before since Brandon had texted me the previous day and I just remembered at dinner. Mel was surprisingly game to make an outing of it, possibly because she knew it would mean I basically spend an entire day away from her if I went alone, not that I mind as long as she's happy to come, and she did. Holiday Monday we were hosting her parents for a BBQ to christen our new patio. It was a mad rush to get the house clean (not that we spent much time inside anyway) and I was slightly criticized for the state of the kitchen, which I did, as always, take a little personally. 

It was a nice time. We gabbed of course, I put some ribs in the BBQ and some sausages, they brought sides and dessert. We told the tale of the patio, which has been recounted many many times by now but sure, I'll tell it again here.

In abbreviated form, the process was relatively easy and would be painless, except for a few hitches. One is that there was some issue with the skid of pavers that they brought, where a few rows were the wrong shade, so 30% of our patio was noticeably off (not so noticeable on a busy day in full sunlight, but as the light dims it becomes obvious.) At first we were told that the 30% was the shade we had actually ordered, although a glance at the catalogue suggests otherwise. Once we noticed it, our guy was very quick to rectify, but we were told it have to be redone to match the 30%, not the 70% that we preferred. A letdown but as long as it's all the same. In the end, they actually sourced enough of the one we liked that we came away with a great product. Other issues were that we wanted the garden edging raised to form a proper border, whereas they usually do it set into the ground to prevent a tripping hazard (we had them leave a lower border around the corner where the stepstones lead in) as well as our surprise at not having a top-step landing and instead having just one solid block down, but as it was explained to us it made sense and we have adjusted.

The other big conflict concerned the floral arrangements, what we had asked for. We had talked about doing some planters to disguise the A/C unit, and they seemed to be on our map and on our quote, but that seemed to get left out, and then reframed as just a hypothetical thing, even though the plan specified them. So we were a little irked when we got some pushback about them, but it did work out in the end and we were happy with the result. I still intend to give them a very positive Google review.

So you know, that's adulthood, maturity, home ownership, communication, knowing what you want and how to get it, negotiation, and compromise (but not too much).

Spilling my guts here has helped lift my spirits ever so slightly. Sometimes, you know, it's hard to just stare at a screen and type and think all day, I was getting down about it. But putting the world in order, how I will it, is what makes me happy. Mel likes reels a lot. Reels make me sad because these people are working so hard and getting attention for it, and I do nothing and get nothing. It's not that I want to do reels or tiktok. I think I am not really wired for it. I'm a writer, that's not the medium for me. But, they're getting the attention they get and I'm getting nothing. I do crave the serotonin from having a lot of people react to something you do, but I don't really have the time or energy to do that sort of thing. At the same time, nobody's making money off their reels. It's work -- maybe a little, maybe a lot -- purely for attention, comfort, public service, not gain. Not unless you are an ~influencer~. But hey, I don't know, I don't know from social media. It's not my world. I just wish it didn't get inflicted on me.

But at the same time, I'm not really inflicting myself on any world of my own. 

I don't know. There are things to do. I imagine all these big moves I could make, things I yearn to create and yet I lack the fire to make them real. I have a lot of unfinished business, you know. I also have a messy kitchen, a cluttered basement, a dirty floor, meals to make, dishes to clean, a fridge to clean, groceries to do, a 9-5(ish) job, a wife, and important TV watching to do.

Gimme freedom.

Damn, did I get myself down again, or did I get some resolve to go do something big and good?

Time will tell.

Keep on rockin'

-Scotto