sometimes, just to remind you he is still out there

the Impending Doom makes a couple quick passes at your life. By and by things are fine, a little stressful but we are getting the house we want, signed the boys up for a great summer program that should benefit them in an untold number of ways, I have Kim and the boys and I am busy and feeling useful at work.  But, there are things, this week I have been:

• Crazy Sick with a horrid case of chronic bronchitis, complete with bronchial spasms which has cost a ton of money we didn’t need to be spending right now
• In one auto accident that was my fault (don’t cough and drive) and accelerated the need to have my car looked at and repaired
• Had to run all over Troy, Livonia and places in between
• Gotten very little sleep and still not accomplished the bulk of what needs done

And then, there was yesterday. I called about the summer program for the boys and found out there was a mandatory orientation coming in the evening and it would be our last chance. The plan had been to get to the clinic for my lungs and go do laundry or pack. Instead I made my way over to Troy to meet up with Kim and go to the orientation. On my way, on the freeway not far from my exit something fun happened.

I was cooking along at 70 in the right lane, a couple hundred yards ahead of me was a white work van, attached to it was one of those small trailers that you can haul a car or boat or something on. On each side of the trailer, covering the otherwise exposed tires are two car tire sized, heavy fenders. I watched as the van hit a bump and one of them tore off, at first I thought the entire wheel had come off.  With myself traveling at 70 and I suppose the heavy metal fender hurtling toward me, bouncing and jumping off the concrete, time froze and I watched considering the trajectory which was going to have it slamming into my windshield, directly in front of my face. A single thought, my usual singular thought in these moments was “Oh, this is a stupid way to go out“.

I was on the phone with Kim and when time unfroze, I yelped out something, looked to my left, there was a car next to me, so I veered left as far as I could, hit the brakes and braced for impact. The fortunate maneuvering left the fender striking the upper right corner of my hood, then glancing on the windshield, leaving a nice spider crack, but me still breathing and my car still operating. The van drove on like nothing happened and I just resigned myself to heading to Kim’s work.

We made our way to B&G orientation and that went fine, very good and encouraging in fact. We followed up with dinner where we talked about how wonderful it was that everything was falling into place.  After that it was off to the clinic, I will skip the stupid details there but suffice to say it was under staffed, busy and we were there two hours. Another hour wasted at the pharmacy left us near home at close to midnight, Kim was in her car directly in front of me and suddenly driving uncharacteristically slow, then Hazard lights.  Fuck, all I could do was laugh about it for a while, then I got very frustrated and angry with the universe, her car was dead, either from lack of oil or from the oil turning to sludge. We left her car there, but I am certain I didn’t sleep until 2 or later last night; anger and brief outburst and (wonderful) sex came first.

So, we were up and out the door early this morning so I could drop her off at her companies Troy office, got her there, headed to work in Livonia myself and was about half way there when she called and asked if could come back and get her. This is where the story starts to get incredulous, some fucking belligerent knuckle-head made threats against the office she works at! What the F. I have to admit Doom, even for you this getting creative. So, it is turning around and heading back to get her, wondering the whole time if I will get there before this maniac. I did and who knows if he is actual going there at all, but none-the-less I wasn’t gonna leave her there to find out.

Finally, I got to work, she went to her companies nearby office. I am exhausted, sickly and have been trucking from arrival until I paused to write this. What a damn week~

Blerg

In spite of a massive shake up at work and plenty of things to be nervous and excited about, 2pm found me falling asleep at my desk again yesterday. The VP was fired which was a bag of mixed emotions for me since he was the one that was supposed to be extending me a job offer to go full time with the company. It was announced during a morning breakfast meeting and the President then proceeded to hammer all of us about the terrible working culture we had created for ourselves, complaining that we are not respectful and professional enough with one another. He again urged us not to get so stressed and try to find the humor in how totally fucked things are operationally. From a profit perspective we are doing great.

That sense of doom crept up on me again for a bit, but I found a nice project to work on and managed to co-author an important paper with our chief architect.  For reasons still unknown to me there was a permeating smell of acetone or kerosene coming from the ventilation system, perhaps the bastards down in the factory trying to kill us? Who knows, but it was more than unpleasant.

Eventually I cruised home (to Kim and the boys, not the basement), fielding a call from my mother on the way. My mother who is convinced that I have no life to keep me busy so I must just be resentfully ignoring her. We have a complex relationship. There is no single human being on the planet for whom I have less patience and sometimes the most mundane of conversations with her can leave me feeling irritable. She is mostly deaf, has been for the better part of my life but has never learned to read lips or comprehend through context. Years of smoking and drinking have left my throat badly scarred and one of my least favorite things in the world to do is raise my voice, which I have to do with her for every conversation. Then there is her need to give advice and argue, which she loves to combine. When she is convinced that she is right about something she becomes in her stalwart defense of her position, like a dumb and savage animal, impossible to reason with. So her calling to ask for my help, turned into an argument about whether or not I should change jobs should the opportunity arise.

After the mild irritation of speaking with Mom, I arrived back at the farmhouse to find Young Farmer in the yard with a mess of chicken wire and some tools, he ran to me to explain that he was  going to “put a fence so the chickens don’t leave the property” in the event that they escape one of the coops. I looked down at the small spool of chicken wire, box of nails and hammer, then at the length of the property along the road, which may be as long as two football fields. I simply smiled at the boy, thinking to myself that while I admired his ambition the chances of success were desperately slim.

It was my intention to come in and get started on dinner, some Pesto with Fettuccine. Kim was passed out on the couch with the Senator sprawled on top of her happily watching Indiana Jones. I started gathering supplies to cook when I got a most pleasant surprise when I took the lid off of the big pot. There in the pot was a copy of Shantaram the Gregory David Roberts novel about his escape from prison and subsequent adventures in India. I had been reading it online and mentioned that I wanted to get it; the gesture made me very happy.

Then it was dinner and a long discussion about how to get me moving on catching up on my debts, I was a very stupid monkey last year and will spend a few years making up for that.  Of course the entire time I was glad for the help but mostly thinking about sex, which I was certain was coming as soon as the kids went to bed.

Unfortunately by the time she put them down, staying with YF for a bit to talk about a problem at school, exhaustion had overtaken me and I passed out on the couch five minutes into watching an episode of Caprica. Aside from lack of sleep, I cannot figure out why I am so damn tired all of the time these days.

It is once gain two o clock and my eyes are trying to close on me.

The First Disptach is Always the Hardest

This last seven days, while civil rights leaders were dying, Congress drew lines in the sand on major issues and a plume of volcanic ash blanketed the better part of Europe with all gratitude to Iceland,  my own life reflected the apocalyptic but hopeful state of the worlds current state of flux.

I have been struggling at work and an ever-present sense of doom has been keeping my anxiety levels way up high. I believe however that in spite of having to punch upward and overcome obstacles placed in my way by management and the sheer chaos of this environment, I have turned things around at work.  Of course that was not without headaches and the damn sense of doom has yet to fully subside, but I do feel hopeful that it soon will.

Spent the weekend with my girlfriend and her two boys which was lovely, until Sunday morning. She has tried to be civil and operate with a co-parenting strategy with her ex-husband that had him living part time with her and the kids, saving on the cost of childcare because he hasn’t had a job in forever. She has not dated to speak of since the divorce some 6 years ago. Once things got serious with us she started telling him he needed to get out. So, Sunday morning he comes home and I am there, he is pissed off that I am spending time at the house while the children are present and mayhem ensues. He spent the night in jail, but is out there somewhere now and we are concerned about whether or not he is going to comply with the no contact order that was issued the next morning.  Messy, Messy and not so good for the kids.

That said, while he whiled away the hours in a cell at the Hackel Hilton, we went to a BBQ with members of my tribe (family and friends close enough to be family). That was actually very pleasant and my bunch of crazies was in a rare mood to be on good behavior.