• No network means mo’ blogging!

    wedding2.jpg

    This Sunday I had three weddings on my mind. I attended mass with my Catholic in-laws for the second time since my infamous Orlando walkout. If I said it was the first time it would sound a lot more impressive, unless you knew I was lying. We were taking on mass to celebrate Cheryl’s parents’ forty-fifth anniversary. That’s pretty cool, but just being in the church brought back some of my fondest memories. (Not counting the Orlando incident.) It’s where Cheryl and I were married a little over fourteen years ago. I may be a little biased, but it was the best wedding I’ve ever been to. At some point I got off memory road, giving me the chance to spend most of the sermon daydreaming about the third wedding: my trip to Wisconsin later this week for my cousin’s wedding. Maybe you don’t think Wisconsin is exciting, but it will be the second furthest I’ve traveled from home. Note: I’m not counting trips to New England, mostly because it’s inconvenient, but also because it’s where I used to live (MA being the only state I can say that about) and it’s where much of my family is from. It will also be my first trip outside the state since I got sick. Plus, I’ll get to see some family I haven’t seen in a really long time. In the words of the cool kids from my high school days, I’m stoked.

    Now I’d like to take this opportunity to thank the server at our office for burning out this morning, making this post possible. Many organizations have striven for the elusive “paperless office,” and in many ways we’ve achieved it in my department. But the flip side is there’s not a lot to do when the ‘puter ain’t working. “Open the pod bay doors Hal.”

    For those of you outside my inner circle (re: not in my head), the last month or so has been crazy busy – on the Kauffman scale of activity anyway. Now that Beth is on the road to middle school (junior high) and the after school activities have shifted a few hours later, I find myself with less feet-up time. It’s left a lot less time for leisure pursuits, but I’m not complaining. Days have never seemed so short, which I take as a good sign. Nowadays I’ve got just enough time for my kids, work, my bike, a pinch of news and the occasional post. And that’s with a reduced sleep schedule.

    Alright, maybe it doesn’t sound all that busy, but I can’t imagine what I’d do if I had a job with more time demands. Not being able to imagine it is probably a big reason why I don’t.


  • Cubed

    Last week I lost an office but I gained a cubicle. It was all part of the state’s plan to join the effort to rid western civilization of the scourge known as privacy. It’s true that some employees have done everything in their power to prove they don’t deserve privacy, spending their time on the clock performing a wide range of activities unrelated to that which they are paid to do. My problem isn’t the lack of privacy though. If I had privacy issues, do you think I’d discuss as much as I do on this blog? No, my problem is all the damn quiet.

    When my group was in a suite of private offices we all spoke at a normal volume, and there was something comforting in the sounds of a busy office. Now when folks speak it’s in hushed tones, practicing good cube etiquette. It’s damned unsettling. There’s something about a whisper that’s sinister. Conspiracy, death, disease, gossip… it’s all associated with an ominous whisper. Even when someone does make a loud noise, it’s oddly muted by all these infernal cloth partitions. It doesn’t go away, it just has the sharp edges filed off, making every sound seem like a desperate church whisper. If you’ve ever been to a church with lots of carpeting and plush pews, you know what I’m talking about. Sounds are dull and uneventful, compared to the sounds of our old offices, with lots of hard surfaces that kept the noise alive and vibrant.

    The sounds of hustle were like a cue to work hard, maybe even a catalyst. It kept me awake and alert, like a workout mix. Now, even though the faint sound of a pencil dropping can be pinpointed from half a dozen cubes down the row, it’s like someone singing a soft lullaby. The way I’ve been sleeping lately, that’s the last thing I need. Even worse, with all the whispering I’d probably have a nightmare.


  • Today, of all days

    Today was not a good day at the office. I’m already afflicted with a tendency to see a suffering child with every piece of paper I touch, or every client I see; but today felt like one of those days when the brain chemistry was out of whack – trending blue. I have touched one too many cases with vivid descriptions of tragedy.

    I could deal with it if yesterday had been any better. I was catching up on the news when I came across a story about a study. It suggested a stronger link to genetics than previously suspected for my daughter’s (suspected, still officially undiagnosed) troubles.

    I gotta tell you, that didn’t help much.

    This has been another one of those weeks when it’s hard to find any comfort in the handful of things I can control, unable to ignore the wide range of things I can’t. You may have felt the same way from time to time. Well, this one-time aspiring counselor knows many of the right things to say to someone like me, at a time like this, but I’m a lousy listener.