Vignettes

Inspiration is real. Waiting for inspiration is BS. By slogging through the trenches, I’m back on board the Altered Egos train and genuinely look forward to working on it again every day. There are two metaphors in that sentence.

I’ve worn a tie so much at work these days that my son says, “Daddy, no tie,” on a near daily basis. It’s not that he doesn’t like ties, he knows that I’ve been against them lately and he’s super supportive.

My daughter has developed a second joke. Her first one was telling me, “poopy diaper,” when she definitely didn’t have a poopy diaper. Now, she’ll sit on this plastic fish while in the bathtub, look me dead in the eye and say, “fish on the butt!” and then devolve into a giggling fit. I’m psyched that she’s telling jokes. She didn’t get the toilet humor from me, though. It’s all high brow over here.

I keep querying agents hoping for a bite. I try and pitch maybe two or three every couple of weeks. Way I see it, if my query is bad, then instead of cutting all my chances at the same time, I’m doling it out piece by piece. Granted, that means its taking a while. But I’m not ready to put The Red Door to bed yet anyway.

While I’d rather work with an editor and a publisher, Plan B is to self publish. I’ve written five novels by now – two of which are what I consider to be publishable – but I’m waiting until I have three before I hit the self publish button. I figure that three novels of three different styles will be a good starting point and I’ll go from there. Spaghetti on the wall, that’s my approach. Throw enough and something’ll stick.

I’ve been working D&D back into my life, playing with a group about once a month or so. I’m DMing, but I’d much rather play. But since I’m the one making it work the most, I’ll take DMing as a small price to just be rolling D20s again. I’ve looking into joining an online group that meets more frequently and while that sounds great in theory, the twins don’t allow me much free time. The only reason I’m even playing D&D now is because I’ve somehow convinced my wife to play too. She either really loves me or feels really sorry for me. A bit of both?

Right now, we’re watching the days go by, more or less. We were coming to terms with our current family dynamic and thought that was going to be it. But life, uh, finds a way. That cat’s out of the bag, internet. Come March, the kids will be outnumbering the adults at our house.

The Waiting Game

I’m an actual week away now from having babies and I’m really excited. My wife is worried about the procedure and if they’ve developed enough and all of the typical things one should be worried about at this juncture, but I can’t get past the fact that there are going to be two babies in our lives now!

I always feel weird vocalizing this. I always think it sounds like I’m some sort of medieval king or something who desperately needs an heir so he knows there will be someone to continue his reign. Don’t get me wrong, legacy is cool, but I just want to meet them.

Getting a little personal on you here, it’s taken us years to get this far. We’ve been trying for a long time. She goes through all of the hormones and treatments and all I pretty much do is wait and watch. The lack of any kind of agency on my part has been absolutely maddening. I would do anything if asked of me, but there wasn’t much I could contribute in the long haul. Every month I’d have to go by what she thought she might be feeling or what something kind of looks like now. We started a running joke that a symptom of pregnancy should be that it turns your skin blue. All of the other symptoms: cramping, bloating, nausea, etc. are just too common. Everything has those symptoms. But not everything makes your skin blue, eh?

Anyway, so it finally happened and I’m absolutely thankful, but again, all I do is wait and watch. Now she tells me how they feel inside or oh this one moved or something. I’ve felt their flutterings with my hands and seen the ripples across her skin of them moving underneath like gestating aliens, but for the most part, the whole experience is second hand. My agency comes in the form of making her life as comfortable as possible and thanks to the transitive property, that means I’m helping out the babies too.

She can worry and stress enough for the both of us, that’s fine. Me? I’m sick of waiting. I’ve been sick of waiting a long time ago. I’m ready for action. So what if you’re never ready and all that jazz. Yeah, we’ll never be alone again. Yeah, going to the store is going to be an event of epic proportions now. Yeah, I’m going to forget what it was like to have even a little bit of money. I don’t care. Bring on those babies!

It gets me wondering. I like comic books and writing and video games and painting table top miniatures and soccer and the show So You Think You Can Dance … What kind of cool stuff are they going to be interested in. I don’t care if its writing like me or if its perfecting genetic strains of dandelions. I just want them to be passionate about something.

I’m usually in the camp that the anticipation of the thing is better than the payoff, but after years of waiting, I’m ready for this week to be over 🙂

Everything’s Amazing and Nobody’s Happy

This morning has just been one big comedy of errors.

I was going to go for a run. I love running. I need to run. It burns off all the excess stress and worry and even pent up excitement. I feel so much better throughout the day if I ran that morning.

So I woke up ready to go at 6:30. Then I heard it was raining. OK, not running anymore. I take the dog out. Rain dies down. OK, running is back on. I figure what the hell. I’ll wear a hat and a poncho and feel like a superhero. I finish eating and get ready. It’s 7 am. I spend the next 15 minutes stretching. Then I can’t find the poncho. That takes another 10 minutes. I could run without it, but I’d get soaking wet, probably ruin my phone and with my luck, catch a cold. And seeing as how I’m the only able-bodied person in my household right now, I kind of need to stay healthy.

Grumbling, I give up on running. It’s now 7:25. I can still make the gym if I hurry. I throw work clothes in a bag, tramping through the house for the umpteenth time and figure my wife probably hates me at this point as she tries to sleep. I take out the trash and head off to the gym.

It’s still raining, but a light rain. The kind of rain you don’t mind running in. So naturally everyone around me is driving 10 miles an hour under the speed limit. This isn’t snow people. It’d been raining for hours. Going 35 isn’t going to cause your car to hydroplane …

I finally get to the gym. It’s 7:42. What should have been a 12 minute drive took like 20. My membership expired. Well, turns out it expired at the end of April but the machine was down and nobody caught it. Until today that is. So that took a minute to renew. I go to the locker room and somebody’s claimed my locker. It’s a small room but there’s a core group of regulars. We use the same lockers every day. This is inexcusable.

I race through a 45 minute workout in under 30, rush off to shower and change and discover the jerk who took my locker. It’s an elderly gentleman who’s always there. I talk to him all the time. He should know better. Meanwhile, I get a frantic call from my wife who thinks I’m out running and never came home. I explain my misery.

I get to work on time, but today I got roped into conducting an interview for our open GA position. Thing is, that’s not my job. I have nothing to do with this. Someone else in the office is supposed to handle all of this, but somehow it ended up on my shoulders …

It’s just one of those mornings.

So I know what you’re thinking and believe me, I’m thinking it too. These are totally first world problems. Oh boo hoo I was late to the gym. Oh my god I had to renew my membership when I got a month and a half for free! And how inconvenient to interview somebody when it could land them a job and literally better their future. Yeah, I get it. These aren’t real problems. I’m kind of mad at myself for being such a whiny baby about them.

Thing is, it’s good to vent. With my wife super pregnant, most everything falls on me. I’m starting to crack a little. Don’t get me wrong, what she’s going through is so much more important and I’m not mad at anybody in the situation, it’s just some added pressures in life. Normally, I’m fine dealing with everything. Hell, I welcome it. But that’s because I run. I can run out those stresses and I feel better about life. Puts things in perspective.

Everything that happened this morning could have been totally manageable, I probably wouldn’t have given it a second thought if I’d just gone running …

EDIT: I’ve been dicking around for 45 minutes so I wouldn’t get caught up in something before the interview. Just rediscovered(?) the interview is Monday at 10, not today. It continues!