It’s Wednesday. The work-a-day, rat-race, Office Space world calls it “hump day.” That’s always sounded vaguely (or not vaguely) vulgar to me. Then again, I’m a tremendous prude. For me, it’s not hump day. In fact, most weeks I think of Wednesday and Thursday as my weekend, as that’s when the boy goes to pre-school, and I can get stuff done around the house and get a fair amount of writing done as well. They’re often excellent days.
Today, though, is a crappy hump day, by most indicators. The boy was anguished at pre-school drop-off this morning, which puts a steaming pile of dung on my whole morning. Weather wise, there’s no sun. It’s gray and raining. This is never good for my soul, though as a teen and twenty-something I think I liked to pretend I was the type to really get my jollies on a day like this. And finally, I just learned my car—which went in a for a simple oil change—needs about a grand worth of work.
So! Here’s what’s going to get me through the afternoon:
1. I wrote my post for Boys Don’t Read. Two days early.
2. Any day now, I will get an email telling my Star Wars: The Old Republic account is active, and I can start playing the new MMO. I was in the beta testing on this one, and I can tell you: it’s excellent. If you’re a Bioware fan, this will not disappoint. (If you haven’t liked Bioware, you won’t like this either, I think.)
3. The weather is by miles preferable to the typical December day around here, which would have a foot of snow already on the ground, bone-chilling cold and wind, and probably another foot of snow falling.
4. The car. This might be the nail in its coffin. And that means I’ll get a new car. Which sounds fun!
Christina Rodriguez · 693 weeks ago
sbrezenoff 39p · 693 weeks ago
Kangaroo B · 693 weeks ago
The internet has a long memory. I wondered whether Sam will ever read this post when he is old enough to understand it. My first thought was that this would be a misfortune for him. I'm not sure why I thought that. Maybe it would reveal to him more than he wanted to know about the frustrations you face(d) as a dad. But then I remembered that I didn't need to read a journal my dad wrote to know that I frustrated him at times. I only have to recall all the screaming he did at me. But this brought me to my second thought: It would be totally awesome to be able to discover "lost" journals left by my dad. I'd love to have a clearer window into what fatherhood was like for him. I'd love to know how he processed the grief I caused him. I'd love to know what worried him, what he hoped for. I guess those whose dads are still alive can just ask theirs. But I think there is something kind of gnarly about seeing this stuff on the page, written in real time, not whitewashed by the ravages of temporal distance from the pain.
sbrezenoff 39p · 693 weeks ago
Also: my wife has a journal kept by her mother during my wife's first year of life. I think it was invaluable to her during our son's first year.
Of course, yes, I wish I could just call my dad and ask him about these things, and I would kill to know his thoughts as they happened back in the mid 1970s.
Jonathon Arntson · 682 weeks ago
Kristin Watson · 670 weeks ago