freakingID

Our zebra sentinel guards the walk.

I’m in the middle of a negative experience. I reached out for support to those who could help me turn things around, but it’s not going to happen. They were understanding and supportive, but recently they’ve been hit with their own bitter flavor of nasty happenings which almost certainly put my needs on the back burner—or perhaps even under the stove.

Don't go West, young man.

My usual sense of hope and excitement slowly slips away more each day. Actually, I picture a logarithmic curve representing this loss, gradually accelerating, and I’m in the nearly-vertical portion now.

Time to turn this arc upside-down.

When this happens and I see no means of controlling the descent, I often seek something else in my life I can control and make changes there, whether they need it or not. For some people this might mean going to get a haircut, but for me it’s more like ruining perfectly-good relationships or some other drama-inducing behavior.

Our house is pretty cool.

I’m determined to not let that happen this time.

Toward the rising sun.

If I were single with no children, I’d have already released myself from this negativity, and the category of this post, “Walk to Work,” would have a whole new meaning. Financial responsibilities to my family hold me in this cell for now, though.

I also have a responsibility to be a good husband and father, though. Recently, I’ve been an indifferent grouch to my wife and kids, not really teaching the good life by example. So, while I have to keep things rolling in for now, it’s imperative that I put together an exit strategy. Hence, the six month plan.

Do I really have to go?!

The details are irrelevant. It’s a matter of getting my ducks in a row. What matters most is this new sense of hope and excitement…

The leaf bags complete the scene.

I really hate using the telephone. I beat myself up for not calling mom or Amanda enough, but really—I just can’t stand to use the phone on purpose. That’s one of the reasons I don’t have a cel phone. Oh My God, cel phones are the absolute worst, actually.

That dude's car is just ugly. I don't like it.

Cel phones mean people can bug you at any time, anywhere. If you don’t answer your cel phone, you are making a conscious decision to avoid communicating, which in my case results in the Superego’s hammer of guilt pounding me. No thanks. Sure, you could say by refusing to get a cel phone I’m doing the same thing—but that’s only one hammer hit, and is more a question of lifestyle (and financing) than trying to avoid people.

And in this direction: A paycheck.

Cel phones mean you are beholden to more explanation of what you’re doing with your time. If you have a cel phone with you, and someone calls you, but you don’t answer, then you will have to explain what you were doing that made you not answer the phone. If what you were doing was private, then you either need to lie or tell the truth and face a needless interrogation about your motivations. I already feel 90% of my desires and actions are under a microscope. Carrying a cel phone would just bump that up to 100% real-time accountability. No thanks.

Whatever

It’s not just cel phones, either. People call me at work and I often don’t answer. Then I figure out who it was and email them. I can communicate better with them in writing. I can provide screenshots, photographs, whatever they might need to explain better. I can give them an explanation without being interrupted. In my view, it is just better customer service.

The bottom line is, don’t freak out if I don’t call you hardly at all, and if your calls are always going to voicemail. I’d rather carry a frog in my pocket than use the telephone.

Don’t take it personally.

I appreciate those trees

My personal changelog tracking reveals some important connections. Late last week, ITECS training disrupted my routine and affected the changelog. This week, root canals and a general feeling of misery continued the disruption.

West begins to appeal as the opposite of east

One thing I noticed is a propensity to rationalize more beer when events feel out of control. I even dropped the “social beer only” section from the changelog, because it’s clear that’s just ripe for failure. This tendency comes from a time when I was usually the cause of life feeling out of control. I would over think things, getting bent out of shape over the state of this and that. A few beers provided a distraction, and also reminded me of undeniably enjoyable times past.

Maybe that algae makes us look like we're going green.

My most significant observation about the changelog is how one missing piece can bring down the whole lot. The first week of my changelog, I was religious on addressing all items. The fact that I would have to report to my changelog what was going on acted as an additional push forward.

Downtown-ward

When some anchor items from the list were disrupted, such as  math problems and pushups, everything else went south. I’m reminded of high school, when I noticed the busier I got, the easier it was to finish things. What I mean is, during football season when my daily routine was packed from morning to night, I was more likely to study and finish projects. After football, when my evenings suddenly opened up, I procrastinated more and generally applied less importance to other things I needed to do.

Aww... Do I have to?

For me, this means two things:

1. If the current routine is full of things important to me, then even the few non-important parts of the routine still need to attending to.
2. If some major items on the current routine lose their luster, but cannot be responsibly ignored, perhaps neglecting a few non-important parts will cause a general disruption, wherein the whole stack of cards comes tumbling down uncontrollably, and I’ll have no choice but to put it back together, maybe leaving out some major parts that I previously thought were essential.

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