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Wednesday, March 2, 2011

Where does the day go?

Startling at times looking back at decisions made that lead one to today.  There was a moment I decided to leave the marketing job that was leading me slowly to death.  Another, more obvious reason, prompted me to move from Pennsylvania to New Jersey.  Some sort of passive aggression turned the tables and transferred financial responsibility from me to the Mrs.  Then, I wake up one day and realize in doing that I put myself further in a hole.  Not only was I not doing what I wanted...  I was also bringing in no money.

So, today, I sit in a meeting about shelving emergencies.  I head to a quick site visit on 30th and 1st...  hop a subway and meet with a client on 168th and Broadway...  settle for the Penn Station 2 slice/Dasani lunch...  and race to pickup the little one at a friends house.  A blur to say the least.

The next few hours crazier still.  First thing I hear on the way home was "Dad, I'm hungry."  I just ate, poorly, so I wasn't thinking food at all.  Had a brief moment on the train ride home that she might want dinner.  Was thinking of possible freezer options.  I thought for sure boiling water was going to be involved.  Pierogies?  Mac and Cheese?  Oh, the frozen Perdue nuggets!!!  Right on it.  Find some organic apple sauce and organic fries to help compensate.  "What's that?  You want that Root Beer?"  Ok, cancel out the organic nonsense.  Race to get food going and send a few emails before headed back out to get T from the train.  Somewhere I oversee some fraction homework, and get this religion class test.

"The leader of the parish is called what?  Various things you can do to help the church are called?"  Back from the train it might be time for 2nd dinner.  Rarely is there one, uniform dinner.  Rarer still a meal at the dining room table.  In fact, if we had any discretionary monies the table would be gone.  It would be more practitical to make our dining room a hookah lounge.   So, there is boiling water, for the adults tonight.  Heat up some of mom's leftover sauce she was kind enough to give us last week.  Quick salad and pasta will get the adults by.  Fix a plate of nachos for the little one while we eat, in front of the tv.  There is some college basketball.  The fact N seems interested in watching provides a bit of a thrill.  An attempt to get an hour together for Survivor falls flat.  The ladies have a dust up and my attempts to intervene add fuel to the fire.

Bathtime bonding brings it all together just in time for bed.  There are some smiles and all seems ok, for now.  But what of tomorrow?  Thoughts race back to the beginning...

And it is not that I do not like my work.  I can be very effective with clients and possess some skills that CAN be money making.  There are always grandiose thoughts.  I end up talking to my uptown client, who was a drama major.  WE struggle together to do basic math.  And my my wanders to how many of us are doing what we want to?  How many of us enjoy it?

I look around and see very few.  And that is not altogether bad.  It comes down to managing time and curbing expectations.  I can be effective helping the business and write every day.  This is not Italy during the Renaissance.  Money will have to be made.  We live in one of the most affluent places in America.  We have worked and sacrificed to give our daughter every opportunity we may not have had.

And I circle another date on the calendar.  April 14th, 2011 @ the Bowery again.  It is imperative I see Caveman again.    The constant running in place must have these diversions.  The Suburban Dad has his work cut out for him.  But he is keeping his head held high.

Right, talking in the 3rd person is very Floyd Mayweather.  Sorry.

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