Ebb and Tide
So I'm at work once again, trying to concentrate on moving millions of dollars for people I don't know and will never meet, but often taking the time to look out the window to see the people jogging along the road by the pond, the road closed for the 5K run going on here today.
I wonder about people who jog. They obviously have better knees than I do, since just running around on the softball diamond can make my knees ache for the next couple of days. I also think I'm starting to get the twinges of Arthritis, and remember that my Dad also was diagnosed about this age in his life. Can you say analgesics?
Still, back to the jogging, it seems like a useless battering of your body that doesn't end up getting you anywhere - of course this is from the guy who's been using the elliptical machine at the work gym for the last few weeks. The only things I see are the same view of the lake and Everyone Loves Raymond reruns. I guess i associate jogging with Jim Fixx, and his keeling over and dying out on some street somewhere doing the same thing that he professed to so many others as healthy.
I'm looking at the ducks out on the pond, the light breeze creating gentle movement across the water. i can't help thinking that I'd much rather be out there right now, than looking over another dang form, or another problem item. It's yet another day of overtime, overtime that's just lightly suggested is very important to your fledgling job.
I guess that's the thing I resent about it. I don't mind overtime, and I certainly love the checks that come from it, but I like to do it on my own terms. If I feel I can stay an hour later (don't dare make me come in early!), then I'll do it, or if I need to finish up something one the weekend, I'll do it. I spend a few saturday evening's in my old Greenway plaza office listening to phone calls, glad to be away from the bustle of the rest of the office.
Of course, now I have no projects, or management duties, I'm just a customer service jock, and my job can be done by many others just like me. There's no pressing need for me to be here, except for the fact that they need a warm body to do this job, and the work comes in in a greater volume than can be accomplished in the workforce's regular hours. So, one is told, you need to contribute 10-15 hours of overtime, weekly.
What the consequences are of not making that demand are unknown right now, but in a couple of weeks, when TBRU comes around, I guess we'll find out, as I'm already stuck here on Friday, and I'm not going to let the job eat into any more of my time with the bears than the eight hours I'm required. They won't see me on Saturday, either.
I guess I just want to have one whole weekend without anything to do but sit on the couch and sleep, and I haven't had one of those in months. I've been pushing myself a lot lately, with work, softball, working out. I've neglected finally getting out all of my stuff from boxes - or put them away, and I fear I'm really not doing enough to clean up around the house, but really, I need to be told what to clean.
All this week I've felt like a stiff, aching old man who should have gotten more sleep, rather than to try to run after a ball, or continue to be tortured by walking to Ray Romano. By the time I got home on Friday, I felt down, depressed and defeated, though I still fought going to bed early. Of course as a part of all of this, I find that I'm not writing, yet my mind, usually at work, is full of ideas for spinning yarns and critical salvos. By the time I wind down, they fall away, and all I want to do is give up again and sleep.
i'm worried that my current mood will carry over to TBRU and then I'll just have to stay away, for fear of another bad experience, full of promise, but missing on the grand expectations I've placed on it. I guess I tend to dream big, bigger than I should, for those thoughts always end up missing the mark.
I sit here, on days like this, and wonder what happened to those thoughts of being an actor, a celebrity, doing my own projects and just enjoying life. Or perhaps being a great entertainment or sports reporter or a writer of stories that actually had a plot - something I could never do. Of course back where those dreams live are strange things like being straight and being able to afford fine houses and cars and such, and money in the bank that would keep my life comfortable, just like the customers that I essentially work for - albeit remotely - now as I take their applications.
Somewhere I let my life go with the tide, and never really started swimming to change it.
I'm missing a softball practice, and get together that's happening at Chris' house right now. I guess it's OK, since I've seen all those boys a lot the last few days, and I think we practice a little too much anyway. There's also a practice tomorrow, so obviously I'm not going to get away that easily, am I?
I also need to go buy a glove and pay for the registration fees. I guess the obligations just to play a game don't quit, do they?
I love being here - in Dallas, and I feel I need to do more to get out and see some friends, but right now my life is a little caught up with silly things like Softball "Jersey Night", which I don't want to go to, but is a part of getting team funding. This is tomorrow night when I really want to be watching TV at Matty's. It seems like my life isn't my own right now, and I need to work on that, and being a little more assertive. Maybe I'm paying too much attention to the wrong things, worried about expectations and demands of other people, when I need to focus on me.
Of course, what I'd really like is a vacation - somewhere else - to get my wanderlust on, but that's not going to happen, as I can't get a Monday or Friday off until August.
For now, I'll have to settle for watching the ducks out on the pond, with the little forest beyond it, for my little getaway, but I'll also have to get some work done as well, just for good measure. Perhaps if I go work out, Friends will be on instead.
I wonder about people who jog. They obviously have better knees than I do, since just running around on the softball diamond can make my knees ache for the next couple of days. I also think I'm starting to get the twinges of Arthritis, and remember that my Dad also was diagnosed about this age in his life. Can you say analgesics?
Still, back to the jogging, it seems like a useless battering of your body that doesn't end up getting you anywhere - of course this is from the guy who's been using the elliptical machine at the work gym for the last few weeks. The only things I see are the same view of the lake and Everyone Loves Raymond reruns. I guess i associate jogging with Jim Fixx, and his keeling over and dying out on some street somewhere doing the same thing that he professed to so many others as healthy.
I'm looking at the ducks out on the pond, the light breeze creating gentle movement across the water. i can't help thinking that I'd much rather be out there right now, than looking over another dang form, or another problem item. It's yet another day of overtime, overtime that's just lightly suggested is very important to your fledgling job.
I guess that's the thing I resent about it. I don't mind overtime, and I certainly love the checks that come from it, but I like to do it on my own terms. If I feel I can stay an hour later (don't dare make me come in early!), then I'll do it, or if I need to finish up something one the weekend, I'll do it. I spend a few saturday evening's in my old Greenway plaza office listening to phone calls, glad to be away from the bustle of the rest of the office.
Of course, now I have no projects, or management duties, I'm just a customer service jock, and my job can be done by many others just like me. There's no pressing need for me to be here, except for the fact that they need a warm body to do this job, and the work comes in in a greater volume than can be accomplished in the workforce's regular hours. So, one is told, you need to contribute 10-15 hours of overtime, weekly.
What the consequences are of not making that demand are unknown right now, but in a couple of weeks, when TBRU comes around, I guess we'll find out, as I'm already stuck here on Friday, and I'm not going to let the job eat into any more of my time with the bears than the eight hours I'm required. They won't see me on Saturday, either.
I guess I just want to have one whole weekend without anything to do but sit on the couch and sleep, and I haven't had one of those in months. I've been pushing myself a lot lately, with work, softball, working out. I've neglected finally getting out all of my stuff from boxes - or put them away, and I fear I'm really not doing enough to clean up around the house, but really, I need to be told what to clean.
All this week I've felt like a stiff, aching old man who should have gotten more sleep, rather than to try to run after a ball, or continue to be tortured by walking to Ray Romano. By the time I got home on Friday, I felt down, depressed and defeated, though I still fought going to bed early. Of course as a part of all of this, I find that I'm not writing, yet my mind, usually at work, is full of ideas for spinning yarns and critical salvos. By the time I wind down, they fall away, and all I want to do is give up again and sleep.
i'm worried that my current mood will carry over to TBRU and then I'll just have to stay away, for fear of another bad experience, full of promise, but missing on the grand expectations I've placed on it. I guess I tend to dream big, bigger than I should, for those thoughts always end up missing the mark.
I sit here, on days like this, and wonder what happened to those thoughts of being an actor, a celebrity, doing my own projects and just enjoying life. Or perhaps being a great entertainment or sports reporter or a writer of stories that actually had a plot - something I could never do. Of course back where those dreams live are strange things like being straight and being able to afford fine houses and cars and such, and money in the bank that would keep my life comfortable, just like the customers that I essentially work for - albeit remotely - now as I take their applications.
Somewhere I let my life go with the tide, and never really started swimming to change it.
I'm missing a softball practice, and get together that's happening at Chris' house right now. I guess it's OK, since I've seen all those boys a lot the last few days, and I think we practice a little too much anyway. There's also a practice tomorrow, so obviously I'm not going to get away that easily, am I?
I also need to go buy a glove and pay for the registration fees. I guess the obligations just to play a game don't quit, do they?
I love being here - in Dallas, and I feel I need to do more to get out and see some friends, but right now my life is a little caught up with silly things like Softball "Jersey Night", which I don't want to go to, but is a part of getting team funding. This is tomorrow night when I really want to be watching TV at Matty's. It seems like my life isn't my own right now, and I need to work on that, and being a little more assertive. Maybe I'm paying too much attention to the wrong things, worried about expectations and demands of other people, when I need to focus on me.
Of course, what I'd really like is a vacation - somewhere else - to get my wanderlust on, but that's not going to happen, as I can't get a Monday or Friday off until August.
For now, I'll have to settle for watching the ducks out on the pond, with the little forest beyond it, for my little getaway, but I'll also have to get some work done as well, just for good measure. Perhaps if I go work out, Friends will be on instead.