Monday, October 29, 2012

#121 - Just Bring A Jug

I don't know.  I needed a picture.  These kids are cute, right?

Lemm git at that thing!  Pass it here.

I work kinds long hours now.  I'm tired.  When my body acclimates, maybe I'll have more to say.  I'm assuming that will eventually happen.  Listen to the show.

Peace and all that goes with it,


Sunday, October 14, 2012

Banjos and Sertraline

So much has changed in such a brief amount of time.  I should have guessed; the big occurrences in my life always seem to turn with the leaves in the last part of the year.  Amy got a decent job, I got a job I can hang with, I've lost a nice amount of weight and I am officially on Zoloft.  All of this transpired in the last month, most of it in the last two weeks.  I am relieved.  I am trying to enjoy the feeling of relief as it is. 
My thoughts now are to what to do with my time.  My job is about 45 hours a week, M-F, and I get home at about 6:00 each night.  Amy’s chef job is naturally at night, which means we are back to having no days off together at all.  I was spoiled having her around every evening for the last six months.  It was nice. Now, it’s me an a dog and the TV.  The kids are around usually, but they are teens in their rooms most of the time.  They are in their own worlds.  It stings, but I am getting used to it.
So, how to occupy my time?  It may appear that this is a no-brainer of a problem; I mean, who can’t just do what they want when they have time to themselves?  Well, me.  I've never been very good at this.  When my kids were younger, I had excuses.  I had to be with them, for them, about them.  Now, it had changed.  But who the hell am I?
Enter the pills.  I feel the anxiety slipping.  I don’t freak out when the questions come.  There are points where there are no questions at all.  They have given me a little peace of mind.  I can relax.  It’s difficult to express in words.  I feel present; in the moment.  I’m not so concerned all of the time.  The energy I used to worry so much is not being used.  I just need to find something or some things to do with my time.
Since I turned 40, I can put my old job behind me and I’m medicated I want to do new things with my time.  I don’t know if I need to express myself the way I used to.  I still want to podcast.  I’m hoping to record again next week, but the writing bug may relent.  I think I might be okay with that.  I like using it when I want to; instead of one more reach for a life preserver.  I never really wrote much that wasn't some sort of opinion piece.  I liked my books.  Maybe one day.
I want to do new things and maybe meet some people.  I want to do something with my hands or something active.  I've never really gone down that road before.  I don’t know.  I kinda still want to play the banjo.  Or at least pick on a guitar.  I want to impress myself with an achievement.  Or just learn new things.  Or, or, or…
Fun.  It’s what’s been missing for 20 years.  I want to find it again and hold on. When me and the Mrs. can enjoy it together it will be better, but in the meantime, I want some.  I just have to find out what I enjoy.  The good news is, I’m not freaking out about it, thanks to the medication.  I’ll find it.
We still have restaurant plans.  That could be the answer.  That may take enough of my time so there won’t be questions.  But that’s not today or in the next week.  Until that time, what will I do?

Monday, October 1, 2012

#120 - I Don't Like It When They Grew The Mustaches

The  "s" is backwards because it's a chimp.

It'll all become clear when you give in to the undeniable magic of the podcast.


My chef wife Amy will tell you that getting into the restaurant game is not for everyone, and a a lot of it sucks.  Stupid schedules, egos, criminals, incompetence, sore feet and shoulders, third-degree burns, and smashing stone crabs are just a few of the pitfalls. But, I've told her that I'm jealous.  Not just because she found something she's good at, but that its a real thing.  Food is a tangible thing we all need, and a lot of us just love it.

She didn't want me in her game at first.  I'm a person with a lot of interests; and my trivia knowledge gives me the illusion that I know a lot of things.  She wanted the food world to be hers.  But, just like I'm not a musician and I still enjoy music, I'm a food fan. I like to cook but I'm no cook.  With the talk of the cart and the new talk of an eventual restaurant business, my role now is essential. I'm the support.  I'm management. I get to help the chef girl shine in her own kitchen, which has been her dream for fifteen years or so.

I'm fine with all of that. Thrilled, actually.  As hard and crazy as all this is, it is a genuine product.  An honest exchange of goods for money.  There are so many people who don't need their work to mean anything.  Some of us can't feel good about working without meaning.