Salvaged from LiveJournal: January 11th, 2002

mood:  lethargic

music: The Celtic channel on Spinner.com

Needed: one weekend.

So it's Friday morning. Boss probably wants me to come into work tomorrow, but that won't be happening. There's a strong rumor that more layoffs are coming on Monday, so I'll be damned if'n I'm working the weekend before getting the boot!

Office Space is becoming less of a comedy and more of a documentary.

Late last night I finally finished painting the nursery. I think it turned out pretty good, with a few reservations. I'll post photos later for those who are interested. Then I vacuumed and steam-cleaned the carpet so we (I) can move all the new furniture (that I've been tripping over in the hallway for the past month) back in. Steam-cleaning carpets at 1:30 AM? It's amazing how liberating it is to not give a damn how awake/productive one is for work the next day.

I'm looking forward to drawing a lot this weekend- I really miss it. I also want to update some on-line photo pages. I've spent my lunch hours this week catching up on strips I haven't seen since November. I missed reading comics, too.

My new snow thrower still sits unused in my garage-- it's even got some tags still on it! There can be no more effective snow repellent than spending $800 on a machine to save one's back from last year's excruciating pain. I guess in that respect, it has worked-- just not in the way I thought it would.

Salvaged from LiveJournal: January 2nd, 2002

Twenty-Oh-Two

The holidays are over- much too quickly. Thanks mostly to (over)work, I feel like I missed most of the holiday season. When I finally was able to take some time off, it was spent running around shopping and visiting family. This was fun, mind you, but none of my holiday plans really "clicked" like i wanted them too. My wife and I were looking forward to hosting a family gathering at our house, which would be the first "official" holiday thing we've done since getting the house. But everyone else's plans seemed to be designed to directly counteract our plans. Oh, well.

We've finally started to get our baby room put together. Wow, is baby furniture expensive! And, for some reason, my wife didn't much care for my idea of letting the baby sleep in the bathtub. In the morning, all that would need to be done is a quick hosing off of the baby, and you're all set! I guess my wife has maternal instincts and stuff.

For those who are interested: I haven't abandoned my comic strip. It's just in an unplanned holiday stasis.

Salvaged from LiveJournal: November 27th, 2001

mood:  determined

music: TV: Saturday Night Live (Hans & Franz)

I've become quite the curmudgeon.

What scares me is how everything I'm reading about my impending fatherhood tells me how much behavior is learned through mimicry. I really don't want to be startled one day a few years down the road by how whiny and critical my child has become.

So when do I start being the person I want to be? Today wasn't a bad start. I was able to drive to the train station this morning and let people pass me at a rate of speed far too great for the road I was on, and all I said was "Wow, I hope she doesn't kill anyone." No expletives, no irrational desire to speed up and cut that person off and leap out of my car to give her a lesson in safe driving practices. I had a fairly crappy day at work, and I was still able to leave at 4:30 with a smile on my face. I stopped by the store to pick up some cat food and litter (input and output!) and I bought my wife a stuffed snowman- just because. Today was actually a good day.

"Live and let live" is a fairly common cliche, but I hope I can live that phrase. I've become far too judgmental. This is a big world, with vast diversity. Why would I think that I know what's best for everyone? I would much rather be the fellow with the bemused grin than the guy seething with frustration at every little thing.

Salvaged from LiveJournal: November 6th, 2001

mood:  discontent

Ever see the movie Hope Floats? I'll probably have my Guy Club membership revoked for this, but I thought it was a good movie. Anyway- one thing that always stuck in my head was how Harry Connick's character described his decision to do odd jobs instead of the architecture he's so good at. He said something to the effect of "Why would I spend all day turning something I love into a job I grow to hate?" This probably isn't even close to the actual line, but I remember the sentiment

I really enjoy working with computers. Given the time, I would actually study new computer languages just for the heck of it! But this accursed job is really dragging me down. This project that we're on has no chance of being done on time, but my mangers are of the school of thought that if you insist something often enough and loudly enough, it will come to pass. Therefore, we're all working these brutal hours.

For the last two weeks, I've worked 12-16 hour days. But not on the weekends- I'm starting to understand what "pushback" is. If management pushes hard enough and long enough, employees start to say "You know what? it's just not worth it. Screw you." I honestly think that if 1) the job market wasn't so soft OR 2) my wife wasn't pregnant, I would have walked by now. Can you believe that? I actually would have considered quitting a job when I have a wife who's expecting!

I'm trying -striving, really- to act and feel how I talk. I say things like "Screw it- I don't care if they fire me. I'm working 8 hours and that's it." and most especially: "I'm not going to let it get to me." But then I don't act like that; I let it get to me. I get nervous that I'll get yelled at for "not being a team player" or "not owning your job" (whatever that jargonbabble is supposed to mean), and I get frustrated that I won't finish my part of the project.

The punch line here is that we're the only group working in this kind of frenzy. All the other groups are pretty much twiddling their thumbs, waiting to see what the upcoming buyout means for the Information Technology group. And the only incentive we've been offered is that if we stay until the buyout is final, we'll get part of the bonus for this year that we wouldn't have received due to crappy stock market performance. That's all. And everyone who stays gets that; it doesn't matter if we're overworked or we're twiddlers.

Anyway, for those who care- that's where I've been. I've fallen behind in my e-mail, my comic reading, and especially my comic writing. That really steams me, because it seems like the forces of the universe are conspiring to keep me from putting out a comic strip. Every time I start to get my strip rolling, something happens to make me set it aside for a while.

I used to like my job, and I like owning my own house and being able to afford a car. But I'd be lying if I said there wasn't a part of me that has been wistfully remembering my starving artist period. I'd still work a crappy job, but at a specified hour I could walk away and do what I wanted. Now, I find myself guilty for working only 8 1/2 hours today. Oh, well. This, too, will pass. Maybe I'll even enjoy computing again some day.

Salvaged from LiveJournal: September 27th, 2001

mood:  thoughtful

Here I am, thirty-one years old... Pause. Rewind. Overwrite.

Here I am, THIRTY-ONE years old: a grown-up by virtually any definition of the term. So why don't I feel like a grown-up? My wife and I own a house and two cars. To be more precise, we live in a house owned by one bank, drive a car owned by another bank, and own one car.

And we're having a baby.

I don't understand why I'm having such a difficult time wrapping my brain around that one. I have friends with toddlers, friends with newborns, and friends who had children (very) shortly after high school.

This is something I've always wanted, and I've especially wanted it since meeting Annette in 1996. I'm not frightened by the concept of fatherhood, and I'm not particularly anxious about it (most of the time). I simply can't comprehend holding a little person in my hands and knowing that it's my [son/daughter].

The realization of the fact that my wife is pregnant has not been a smooth progression. I mean- I know she's pregnant, but sometimes I feel like I don't "know" she's pregnant. Since we just passed the first trimester, it's surprisingly easy to forget about it for a little while at a time. We talk about planning the baby's room every now and then, yet it remains a spare bedroom so full of boxes that one can barely navigate a path from the door to the window.

The realization has come more in jumps and lurches, like an automobile with a cranky engine. My wife clipping an article on baby seats and high chairs- Bump! Receiving our first set of baby clothes as a gift- Jolt! Holding my friend's three week-old daughter- Bam! It's sort of a "oh, yeah- that's right!" feeling. Christmas doesn't mean a whole lot, even though Annette will be about 7 months along. In fact, the date that had the most significance was the dentist appointment Annette made for April. She realized she'll have to find someone to watch the baby.

SHE'LL HAVE TO FIND SOMEONE TO WATCH THE BABY!!!

How odd is that?