An Experiment on Cloud 9

I’ve only had a brand new mattress twice in my life. My brother told me, prior to my most recent mattress purchase, that I spend more time on a mattress than I do in a car. That is absolutely correct, but in the time since I bought my last brand new mattress, I have owned over 5 cars. Now, some of my cars didn’t last because of accidents, but still, I have historically paid more attention to what I drive then where I sleep.

My first new mattress was purchased from a mattress store, I forget which, in 2010. My ex and I had just moved to a new town and wanted to buy a grown up bed and mattress, and took the time to go to a store and lie down on all the mattresses available and pick one out. We also bought a very nice bed frame on which to put the mattress. It was a pillow top of some sort, and actually very comfortable from what I remember.

That mattress was sold on the second hand market three and a half years later during a divorce, as was the bed frame. In that time, until now, I have slept on whatever mattress was available at the place I lived, or a couch for a year following the divorce, and nothing was very comfortable or accommodating. But I didn’t have much ready money, and real, grown up mattresses are not cheap. I mean, cheap ones can be had, but you really do get what you pay for in this regard. It is really worth it to buy the best you can afford, without spending ridiculous money, because I don’t think quality rises, necessarily, with the price beyond a certain threshold.

Fast forward to 2020. My wife I and had been sleeping on a full size bed with corresponding mattress, and needed a bit more, ahem, space. It’s not that we don’t like each other, but we needed room to roll over without bumping into one another and disturbing sleep. My sister had a queen size bed frame that she was getting rid of to accommodate her daughter moving into her first room outside the nursery, and it came with a standard spring mattress. I had slept on it before, during a short time when I lived with my sister, and it wasn’t too bad then. So my wife and I inherited a “new” bed.

We’ve slept on it ever since, and while the frame is perfectly acceptable, the mattress was, well, not. It started to compress rather rapidly, and try as we might to adjust where we slept or how we turned the mattress, there were valleys and depressions forming. It translated into back pain for me, and discomfort for her. Plus, that mattress transferred motion like a waterbed, and any time one of us would turn or toss, it would rock the other’s dreamworld. So we needed something new.

We knew we didn’t really have much more than $1000 to spend, and didn’t really want to go to a store to get a mattress. Plus, the smart money is now in the foam mattress-in-a-box that you can get from a variety of companies. After polling my family members, who all have one of these box bed cushions, I came up with three brands: Tuft & Needle, Ghostbed, and Leesa. I researched them all. What I found that was beyond our price point, there were all sorts of options and things, and each brand had their own version of cooling layers, support foam, and what have you. However, the entry level mattresses were all remarkably similar.

This is what I expected. Innovation is where the money is, and that is where you can charge your customers more. But for a basic, entry level foam mattress that will do the job and be what someone on a budget wants, it appears you can find what you are looking for at most manufacturers. In the end, Tuft & Needle had more or less exactly what we needed, and we went with an Amazon.com listing of the entry level mattress from two years ago to save a few bucks versus buying direct from the manufacturer. As I said, the company has iterated and improved since then, but also charge more for it. I figure that what was revolutionary two years ago is still perfectly adequate for now. After cringing at the fact that we were spending a lot of money for a mattress, but with my brother’s words echoing in my ears, we made the purchase.

Said mattress was supposed to arrive on Monday. It came this Sunday morning, just after eight thirty in the morning. My wife and I woke up, removed the old and busted (which was from 2008!) mattress, and promptly hauled many pounds of vacuum sealed mattress-in-a-box up the stairs. It unrolled quickly, and then inflated even quicker once we figured out what side was up and removed the final bits of plastic. Still, the instructions said to give it 2-3 hours before we slept on it, so I went to run some errands and my wife washed the sheets. Finally, just after lunch, both sheets and mattress were ready!

Apprehension has clouded this process for me. What we spent is a lot of money to our budget, and we want to make sure, like anybody does, that we made a smart, wise purchase. I was worried about what would happen if this mattress wasn’t comfortable, didn’t suit, or for whatever reason wouldn’t work out. How do you return a queen size mattress? Would we get our money back? So. Many. Variables. So I slept on it. I needed a nap anyway, and it was the perfect way to take a trial run on the new Tuft & Needle foam mattress. It took all of five minutes. Five minutes for my back pain and discomfort to melt away while I lay there, drifting off to sleep. I woke up 45 minutes later (I wasn’t going to sleep the day away, after all) feeling very comfortable and refreshed.

Tonight will be the real thing. My wife and I will try to get a full eight hours on the mattress and should be able to tell in the morning if we need to do something different. Or not. Tuft & Needle, even through Amazon, gives 100 days to try out the mattress or return it for your money back. The info card with the mattress says to give it a week to really break in the mattress and for your body to be used to it, so there may yet be more of an adjustment period. But we will see. I am hopeful. Given what I experienced this afternoon, it seems great. I really don’t want to try to return this one and go through that hassle. I really do want a comfortable, supportive night’s sleep every night. That is what the advertising says, and I really wish that to be what we get.

I’m sure I will update later on this year with what happened during this experiment on cloud nine. For now, things are looking good on the horizontal plane of existence.

Good Morning

As I type, it is early on Saturday. I can hear birds out my windows, chirping and calling to the dawn. It is a good thing the windows are closed, as the heat and humidity outside, even at this time, is close to unbearable. Today will be another day of triple digit temperatures where I live. My weather app shows no end in sight, and no relief, from this type of weather. September will come before a cooler climate settles here. But I am unconcerned: air conditioning is a wonderful invention.

I am looking forward to a slower day today, a day of rest and relaxation. I have an appointment later this morning, but after that, not much is scheduled. Taking it easy is the name of today’s game. After all, I have been working hard on the job and at my parent’s old house for several weeks. They are moving, have mostly moved, to a new house, and at work we had a new senior staff member be hired and there was much to do for their arrival. Happy is the man that has things to do, but I am glad at the moment to have both tasks mostly behind me.

It is dark here in this room, what my wife and I call “the office” but what is really a craft slash hobby room. (We should have a better name for it, I suppose). She has a table set up for painting, and I have an easel for my painting and a table for my photography and making. There is a desk to my left, but it is covered at the moment with crochet cactus, an enduring craft hobby of my wife’s. She loves to crotchet, and currently is obsessed with making little succulents and larger saguaro type cactus. Along one wall there is an open window, where I can see trees and the brightening morning sky. Perpendicular is another, larger window that at the moment is dark. I installed mini blinds last night, and they are yet closed. Finally, the other wall has two IKEA chairs where we mostly hang out. Her crocheting or working on listing crafts online to sell. Me to watch baseball on my iPad, or write, or read, or just relax and be close to her. I love this room.

I installed blinds for several reasons: one, the window was perpetually “open” to the neighborhood, and thus we had little privacy, especially at night. This is a second floor room, but from a distance we realized anyone could gaze into the room and see our goings on. Two, the aforementioned heat. This window receives quite a bit of light, and with it the warmth of the sun. We want to be able to see out, but also block sunlight when necessary, so blinds made more sense over curtains. Three, it makes this room a little brighter at night, with the lamp light reflecting off the white blinds. We purchased cordless blinds, and I must say they are wonderful. Installation was a bit of doing, but only because I used my screwdriver instead of a drill. The process was quite easy. I am happy that my skills as a handy-man are improving, but it also seems that equipment is made to install easier. Between the two, I do ok, having managed to install a TV mount a few years ago that has yet to fall off the wall, and do a few other things around the house. Satisfaction comes with being able to do the little things for yourself, at least for me.

A dog started barking just now. I think she is the black dog that lives next door; I am uncertain of her breed. She must have woke and seen a squirrel or a stray cat. We have many of both, surprising given the predator-prey relationship between the two feral varmints, but there you go. At any rate, the dog has become a bit of a nuisance herself, lately removing herself from her yard and trotting over to ours. Our roommate was recently viciously attacked by (other) dogs, and is a bit shy of wandering canines at the moment. Spot, I believe this dog is called, is gentle, but there is still the understandable uncertainty surrounding an animal one doesn’t know. My wife was forced to call animal control as the family next door seems unconcerned about the fate of their dog. Again, that surprises me. Why would you have an animal you don’t care for? She is barking again, and another dog in the neighborhood is responding. It reminds me of the Twilight Barking from 101 Dalmatians.

My day proper will have to begin soon. My morning routine is comforting. I didn’t think I was one for the routine, but such things are like a easy chair and a quiet dog on the lap: they help to settle me down. Anxiety can often creep into my mind, and knowing what to do, and when, keeps that at bay. I check my blood sugar; I take my morning medication; I drink a protein shake, and I’m done. Easy, simple, and yes, comforting. I do what I can to take care of myself, maybe not as much as I should, but is that not true of us all? But it helps to get my morning off right. Thankfulness is mine for modern medicine that can help identify problems with my health, and at the same time, offer solutions to manage those problems. In the before times, I would worry excessively about health, and other things, but since I nearly died from Covid a while ago, I take a day at a time, and try not to worry so much. I learned then that I really have no control over death and life ultimately. Still, I take the meds and try not to eat too much sugar, but I don’t worry so much about it. It is helpful for me to routinely do what I can, and let things sort themselves out as they will.

Hopefully today will be as quiet and relaxing as I think. I need a little of that right now. I saw a movie yesterday, Thor: Love and Thunder, and that was a perfect way to spend a few hours. The movie wasn’t perfect, but the time spent in the IMAX theater was. Today I have my appointment, then maybe painting a Star Wars figure, taking a toy photograph, sitting quietly with my wife, and I don’t know what else. That part is exciting: never knowing quite what will take place. But about time to get about it, I think. Time to open the blinds, stretch, and go downstairs to begin my routine. It is a good morning.

Freedom Fighters

Another holiday. Another mass shooting. Are those fireworks or gunshots? I’m not sure I can tell the difference anymore. The freedom to keep and bear arms is infringing on other’s pursuits of life, not to mention liberty and of happiness. There is no independence here, unless it be the freedom from living. I’m so tired. In memorial to those who died north of Chicago at an Independence Day parade:

Today’s the day, kids!
Celebrate your freedom!
The tyranny of peace
Cannot hurt you now
That you’ve drowned
In your own blood,
Lying on the parade pavement
While overhead, bullets fly
Screaming like eagles,
Screeching about freedoms.

Today’s the day, kids!
Celebrate your freedom!
The tyranny of sensibility
Cannot hurt you now
That you’ve breathed
In all the gun-smoke,
Lying on the parade pavement,
While overhead, people run
To hide and cry and fear,
Forgetting about freedoms.

Today’s the day, kids!
Celebrate your freedom!
The tyranny of moderation
Cannot hurt you now
That you’ve waved
Your own little flag
Lying now on the parade pavement.
Overhead, bullet spangled banners
Snap in the breeze
Symbolizing our freedoms.

Today’s the day, kids!
Celebrate your freedom!
The tyranny of safety
Cannot hurt you now
That you’ve died
Lying on the parade pavement.
Overhead, politicians send
Thoughts and prayers
Meanwhile, your death
Fertilizes our freedoms.

Today’s the day, kids!
Celebrate your freedoms!
The tyranny of – I can’t.
I memorialized Memorial Day
With the memory of a mass shooting
And Independence Day?
Fireworks exploded like bullets exploding
From gunmetal barrels to murder
People standing on scorching parade pavement.
Maybe what’s out of control are our freedoms.

Give up your freedoms,
So that another may live,
Surrender your guns,
So that death may come aging,
Leaving the parade pavement
To be trod again.
It couldn’t hurt you now to lay aside
The tyranny of the 2nd Amendment.
Celebrate your freedom!
Today’s the day, kids!

Lessons from the Jedi

What do you do when the world is crumbling all around you, or feels like it? Is that the time to give in? Do you forsake all else and focus on survival? Or is survival meaningless without the stories we tell each other to make sense of life preserved?

I haven’t done anything creative in weeks. Personal troubles at home, tragedy with a housemate, and the deteriorating state of things has left me completed drained. I can’t shake the despair. I was doing so well, and now I feel as if I can’t win and that evil is taking over.

I can’t ignore the pain and utter hopelessness exploding around me. There’s a bit in the Star Wars: Return of the Jedi novelization in which Luke Skywalker is hiding from Darth Vader on the second Death Star, trying to shut out his thoughts of Leia, to save her from the twisted machinations of the Dark Lord. And yet, at that exact moment, she cries out in pain. The text says that Luke had

“…no way to hide what was in his mind—Leia was in pain. Her agony cried to him now, and his spirit cried with her. He tried to shut it out, to shut it up, but the cry was loud, and he couldn’t stifle it, couldn’t leave it alone, had to cradle it openly, to give it solace.”

Star Wars: Return of the Jedi by Donald F. Glut

It’s a beautiful bit written by Donald F. Glut, and it’s how I feel at the moment. People are crying out in pain and I must give their cries solace.

But I have allies in the fight. Leia had Han, and Chewie, to stand with her. Luke felt her pain, but it wasn’t his to endure. He felt it, and then had to let it go. He quickly learned that to keep Leia safe he had to lean on his faith in his friends, and focus on what was in front of him, namely, defeating the evil inside of Anakin that was Vader. For me, my fight is against my depression, the despair inside of me. When I have a handle on that fight, then I can turn to help others in their oppression.

The Jedi religion focuses on letting go, on trusting in something greater than yourself, and in taking each moment as a whole in itself. The Jedi is mindful, calm, at peace. Not unconcerned, but aware. Ready to engage, but also still and in the moment. Cognizant of the darkness around but firmly in the light.

I want to be Jedi-like in my manner, and in my expression. Able to reach out and help another at any moment, and yet centered and free to be myself. The world isn’t actually falling apart. Things are bad. It feels, at times, that the Sith are winning, that the Empire has got a choke-hold on things, but as long as there is a resistance, there is hope. And rebellions are built on hope!

In the end, Luke only persevered, saved his father, and defeated evil by surrendering. I think for me that means I must stop taking it all on myself. That’s how I win, not by fighting what I hate, but by saving what I love. It doesn’t all live and die with me. Darkness is burned away by even the littlest spark catching fire. I light those fires with my creativity, my joy, and my exuberance for life.

If you need me, I’ll be communing with the Living Force, and clearing my mind of darkness. I will be reaching out with my feelings, and lighting all the sparks that I can.

Father’s Day

I don’t much remember my early childhood with my dad. This isn’t so much a specific memory error as I don’t remember much at all anyway. But I do remember holding his hand as I walked as a young kid, or taking naps on Sunday afternoon next to him on the couch.

I remember him coaching (or was it umpiring?) the T-ball team I played on. After getting a hit, I remember fixing my gaze on him as he stood by first base. As I ran up the line, I was running towards my father. I remember how excited I would be if I beat out the play, to stand next to him while I waited for the next batter to get a hit, or the disappointment if I was out, to have to jog back to the bench and leave my dad standing there.

Much later, in my junior year of high school, he and I played on the same church softball team. I don’t remember our team being that good overall, but my dad pitched and I played infield/outfield. It was fun watching him from the center of the diamond, and knowing we were playing the game I (almost*) love together. *Softball is not baseball.

Not everything from my childhood with my dad was roses and sunshine. I also remember being terrified of my dad. “Just wait until your father comes home” was no idle threat, and if I was disobedient, my mother would say variations of that, and I would live in fear the rest of the day of what would happen when my father did arrive home from work. I would usually receive a violent spanking, maybe get yelled at, or have some other abusive punishment. I know now that he was struggling with his own mental health, tough work environments, and the stress of raising me and my brothers and sister. I don’t say this to excuse the abuse, but to put it in context. He did the best he could, even if that was sometimes horrible.

It took me a long time to understand and appreciate my dad. I certainly didn’t know about mental health and stress as a kid or teenager. I just knew my dad would often sleep a lot after work, be moody, and sometimes emotionally unavailable. He would yell, he could be violent, but that wasn’t all he was. He was, and ever is, gracious, generous, loving, ready to help out where he can, paradoxically patient (in relation to his emotional swings), and funny. He is smart, incredibly wise and understanding, and always ready for a good time.

It was from my father that I received, and am ever grateful for, my love of all things science fiction, of Isaac Asimov, of Star Trek, and many other things. We enjoy many of the same books, and films, and he was my gateway to nerd culture. Without him, I would not be who I am today, in more ways than one.

I’ve said before that as I grew up, matured, and left home, I felt like I had two dads. One that wasn’t much fun to be around, and one that I loved a lot. I viscerally hated the first, and enduringly cared for the second. It made for some complicated feelings. As a young adult, I wasn’t around my father much. He was in Papua New Guinea and I was in various colleges, universities, and my first home with my first wife. I spent much of my time nursing an overpowering rage towards my dad as I dealt with my own precipitously declining mental health. My first therapy sessions were more about him and my anger towards him than my failing marriage or anything else.

I often wonder if I had focused my attention in therapy elsewhere if I would still be married to my first wife, and if I wouldn’t know my dad as I do today. That is still an impossible choice to make, even in hindsight, but I all I knew then was an overwhelming cloud of negativity towards him that I wanted to dispel. As I got healthier, got started on medication, and talked so much about our life together, he and I, I realized we had more in common than not, and I learned to love who he is, and accept who he was.

My marriage failed spectacularly, but I regained my father. I will leave history to judge what the ultimate meaning of that is, but I’ll just say I am glad to have a relationship with my dad once again. It was still rocky over the few years following the onset of my therapy, but I am so ecstatic to say that my dad and I have a fantastic relationship now. We can talk about almost anything, we share so many things in common, and we enjoy our time together.

For me, Father’s Day was complicated. I was expected to make cards for, and show appreciate for, a man who at times abused and loved me, who frightened and delighted me, who was there and not there. It was difficult. Now I am so happy that Father’s Day is an uncomplicated time to celebrate my dad, in all his failures and successes.

I cherish and love my dad so much. I am forever grateful that I am his son. I didn’t get to chose my dad, or have much choice over how my first eighteen years played out, but I do get to choose him now. We are both so much in a better place than we were seventeen years ago, and while its been a tough journey, it’s a road we’ve walked together. I look forward to the rest of our travels, my dad and I.

I recently watched Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade with my father, and my favorite part of that film is the relationship between Indy and his father. Their interplay and rediscovery of a wounded relationship was always something I identified with. I have now what they discovered in that film: an appreciation of who my dad is, and a renewed joy in spending life together with him.

In some ways, I will always be running towards my father, following in his footsteps, trying to be the best man he was always striving to be, and didn’t know how to be. I don’t know if I’ll ever arrive where he is, but I do know we can stand together now, safe, and looking forward to what is ahead.

I love you, Dad.

Dad and Me, a few years ago

Grief Persevering

I’ve thought about Memorial Day this year, and what it usually is: a time for flag waving and troop honoring and over-the-top patriotism for America. But that thought just sickens me. America is broken. It is full of hurt and sadness and evil from a very particular, and thankfully very small, but yet strong, minority. I cannot, in good conscience, praise the troops who fight in wars I do not support with weapons I do not think should exist, when many are dying on my own front door step.

So today I offer a verse in memoriam for those who have died recently in Uvalde and in every mass shooting in my lifetime, which is way more than I care to count. It is a small token I grant, but it is the best I can do right now.

This Memorial Day
Instead of honoring soldiers
Or cops who can’t police
Themselves, much less others,
I’m grieving insurmountable loss
Not just the loss of innocents
Children parents elders - everyone
Who falls to build another up -
Not a person but an ideal:
“A good man with a gun”
(Such a fucking filthy lie!)
But I forgot, it’s rocks and sin
That murders, not guns and men.
As if rocks could be bothered
Under the metal hail, casing
Each school and supermarket and
Synagogue and - everywhere where
Bullets fly in the face of innocence.
But if it’s sin, then repent of the evil
Of banning abortion, but not guns,
Of decrying politics, but not NRA funds
Of feigning helplessness, but ignoring a world
Where this hasn’t happened in decades
Or has America cornered the market on sin?
But if it’s sin, then repent of the evil in your heart
The evil that loves guns, killers or not.
The evil that won’t vote, to end to stop to halt
The sale of one more AR-15, the failure
To well regulate one more non-existent
Militia. We have a military now, standing still,
To defend us from all threats foreign -
But not domestic. Good guys with guns -
(That filthy fucking lie!)
Stand outside the door debating going home
While the children within will never
Go again. But tell me again how removing one gun
Wouldn’t have made any difference
to the ripped apart
So love your gun, your freedom, your self,
(For what is love but grief persevering?)
So persevere with your righteousness
While others mourn their dead
This Memorial Day.

Guns are absolutely a problem, and while yes, guns cannot do anything without a human agent to set them off, they sure do make it much, much easier. The overwhelming evidence shows that good people with guns have not stopped a single school shooting, and have failed so many other places. Police are almost useless in these cases as well. I am 100% for banning and taking guns away. They are tools of war, weapons of death, and have no place in civilian life. We, as a nation, have simply shown we lack the morality, the maturity, and the mastery to handle them responsibly and they should be taken away, as you would take a stick from a bully child who is hurting other children.

It bewilders me that some will vote for bans on abortion, or books, or whatever else, but not think for a second that banning guns will do anything to mitigate our murder problem. It has, and would again. I amazes me that we fetishize the 2nd Amendment of the Constitution of the United (hardly) States of America, and the Constitution itself as infallible, unchangeable doctrines. Who ever said that the founders got everything right, for all time? Who ever said they shouldn’t be improved upon?

Today, Memorial Day, or any day hence, I will not stand for an anthem, a pledge, or any sort of patriotic theater. That is still my right as an American. I won’t do it simply because the America represented by these displays is not an America I can support or that represents me. Unless and until that changes, I will take the metaphorical, and sometimes physical, knee. Our children are depending on us to change things and to keep them safe wherever they are or go. And right now, we are failing them so completely that it is unbearable.

We MUST do better.

Endgame

Eighteen, at last count. Eighteen children lie murdered today. It is horrifying. Beyond sad. Infuriating. Another school shooting. And just writing that sentence is beyond my comprehension. I was a young teen when Columbine happened. Now school shootings occur with disarming regularity. Our terror at the unimaginable has shifted into numbness at the mundane routine mess of it all.

I am beyond asking when it will stop. It didn’t stop after Columbine. It didn’t stop after Sandy Hook. It won’t stop after Uvalde.

I’ve been trying to make sense of it. For the longest time I couldn’t bring myself to do anything but shake with rage. Then I just needed escape from this reality. I am watching a super hero movie. I wanted something in which the good people lost everything and the bad guys won, and then the good guys beat them and it ends happily. But the strange thing is that the Avengers don’t win. They avenge. They can’t stop the bad things from happening. But they do the right thing, the hard thing, in spite of losing it all. Maybe I can, too?

It is a shallow lesson and an inadequate response to an unthinkable tragedy that is sadly all too easily imagined. But it is all I have right now, so I will hold on to it for what it is: pop psychology based on pop culture. But the stories we tell each other are powerful. They aren’t fact, but they can so often be true. Truth emanates from human experience, and we reflect human experience by telling each other stories. It is an experience as old as humanity.

But if that is to bring solace, it is small, and not enough. Eighteen children should be alive to love the Avengers’s stories with me. To grow up and love running in the green grass beneath the yellow sun. To be safe at school, or church, or the grocer, or the public square. But they are not here anymore. What truly haunts me about all this is how it never should have happened. I could insert a bunch of buzzwords and get “political” but that’s been said before, and in America, it is well known what should happen, who should make it happen, and in the end, what should never happen again.

Maybe like a magician, we have given away the key to the universe of time, and now simply have to watch the devastation unfold time and time again until enough people have died, and then we get a miraculous second chance to bring back the dead. But no, I must be once again confusing reality with with what my soul wants so badly. Space monsters and power villains are no match for the truth. Evil doesn’t need to be purple, or red, or larger than life. It just needs a gun and an opportunity. Taking the gun away will prevent the opportunity from finding percussive voice. Sure, bad people will still find ways to hurt good people, but we shouldn’t be making it easy, damn it!

I just want every single person to grow up without fearing for their lives, fearing because someone full of rage has a gun and can use it freely, carry it openly, and put a bullet in our loved one’s fragile bodies. I don’t blame the guns, but oh, they make it so much easier. The wizard knew the endgame of his story. I don’t know the endgame to mine, to our shared story, our shared existence in this country. But I know one step I can take to work towards the future where America is free from the constant barrage of gun violence. I will take that step as often as I can.

If it means losing friends, losing the love of family, or endangering a comfortable life, then so be it. Some things are worth fighting for, and by loving peace and all my fellow humans regardless of race, gender, orientation, religion, nationality, or any other puny thing that would seem to divide us, then I can make this world a better place. I will do it in the name of the eighteen children who died today, and all others I have mourned since Columbine. They deserved better, and I will do what I can to make sure those who come after receive better.

I won’t avenge. I can’t. Avenging isn’t what I do. I will love. And I will fight. And by all that is good on this earth, I hope we all win. It is the only thing that will make all this pain worth it, in the end: making a better future by learning from the past. It is the only true way forward. And go forward we must.

Woody’s Roundup

Employment

Two weeks have passed, and I’ve been working as an agent of Human Resources at a small, local university. The current HR assistant is resigning so she can spend the summer abroad, and then pursue further education. But she hung around long enough to be training me these past two weeks.

I’ve been grateful for her assistance and the proverbial “crash course” I’ve received in how to do the job. My job seems it will be a combination of long term projects I am taking over, and what I call “email chasing”, that is, an HR related email comes in and it is my job to decide if it is something I need to pass on to the HR supervisor, or if it is something I can handle. If the latter, I then act on the email, which usually means replying and starting a new task. It’s a lot of hurry up or wait.

The job has gone well the 10 days I’ve been working thus far, but I’ve had the safety net of the previous person there to check my work or help me along. I won’t have that come Monday. Honestly, I think it will be fine, but I’m also a little terrified about taking over all by myself. My supervisor doesn’t work every day, so I will have to rely on my training and instincts to get by. Plus a lot of “email chasing” will be emailing my supervisor to double check things until I really internalize the job.

As I said in my interview prior to being hired, I am interested to be a part of an HR department. I’ve had a few bad experiences in my time as a worker with HR, and I would like to provide a more positive experience if I can. Time will tell, but really, I am an assistant more than anything, and may not have the opportunity to make much of an impact on the public face of this department. But if I can make a difference behind the scenes, that will be enough for me.

Scheduling

My previous job required early wake up calls and late evenings, at times. As a result, I haven’t had a “normal” sleep schedule for a long time, probably about 8 years. In that time, I was also diagnosed with sleep apnea. To say I haven’t slept adequately in a long, long time is probably very true. The first two weeks of May I have noticed that I have slept slightly longer each day. I was waking up before 6am when the month started, and now, exactly two weeks in, I am sleeping till just after 7am. I am hopeful that I can stretch that to 8am eventually.

Getting adequate rest is vital to me having energy to get through the day and focus at my job. I could survive at my past job with daytime naps, but that isn’t feasible anymore. Getting by without napping will be huge. I will see how it goes, but I’m hopeful that my body will adjust to a better normal.

Plus, this job is only part time, so my hours remain flexible. I will be working a few each day, but will have the freedom to come and go in the office as I need. It feels like having a job and being free all at the same time. Working from home is a possibility, as is working when necessary in order to accommodate life. Best of both worlds, I imagine.

Payment

My new job pays a living wage, $15 per hour, which should be the minimum wage in the USA (and isn’t) but as I’ve never had that much before, I am very happy to maybe have a bit more breathing room financially. I have a few things I’d like to do with my increased income, and a few outstanding debts to try to get on top of. With more coming in every two weeks, it would be nice to do both.

So many in my country struggle to get by without adequate income, even when working much more than “full time”, it really seems luxurious to get what is mis-called a “living wage”. For so long I’ve made less than $10 per hour, and had to beg for raises of 25 cents each year, that to make as much as I finally am seems amazing. It shouldn’t be this way, and I am troubled by those who don’t have what I have. But I’m grateful for my position.

Celebrating

To cap a chaotic two weeks of training, panic, and euphoria at getting and starting a new job, I celebrated by going to my first baseball game of 2022. My parents joined me, and I was thrilled to treat my dad to an early Father’s Day gift as he got to see his favorite Boston Red Sox defeat the Texas Rangers 7-1. I so much enjoy a night out at the ballpark, and last night was relaxing and a perfect cap to my first two weeks on the job.

Today I was able to celebrate further by attending Brick Fest Live in Dallas. Brick Fest Live is a small LEGO convention, and I went with my mother this afternoon. It was great to walk around the convention center and take in the various and creative creations by the LEGO aficionados in attendance. The highlight for me was an enormous recreation of Terok Nor, also known as Deep Space 9 from the Star Trek show of the same name. It was easily a few feet in diameter, and about as tall. I was able to talk to the builder for a few minutes, and share our love of Trek and LEGO. There were also more than several large LEGO sculptures, one of Woody from Toy Story. It was charming, and great to see the creative part usage in some of the sculptures, where even small bricks make a big difference.

Image of Sheriff Woody from Toy Story created in LEGO bricks
Sheriff Woody…in LEGO

Forwards

I start Monday doing my new job essentially by myself. I continue trying to gain financial independence. I’m sleeping better and longer. And along the way, life continues and I get to have fun with my family when opportunities arise. I am better off now than I was before May. Life isn’t perfect, and never will be, but things are trending up, as they say. And I’ll keep walking forwards, as a simple man, making my way in the universe.

Endings

As I type, I have two shifts left at my current job: this evening, and tomorrow morning. I have been working at this current company, off and on, and to varying degrees, since October of 2014. I quit once before for about a year to work another job that, obviously, didn’t last too long. I thought then that I was done with them forever. But when the other job fizzled, and I couldn’t find another, I went back. I’m not sure that was a good decision.

Sure, it has been great to have employment, but it hasn’t exactly been steady, good, or well-paying. There are many things about this employer, and the job itself, that I don’t appreciate. I currently work six days a week, if not very long each day, and working on Sundays has meant missing out on many family and social events. I usually wake up pretty early to start a shift, and am working when my wife arrives home from her job. It is less than ideal on both sides, and I believe my sleep has suffered for years because of the too-early mornings.

That said, it was great of this company to give me a job again after I quit once, and while it hasn’t been good, it has sustained through seven years as an employee. A lot has happened to me in the eight surrounding years, to whit: I moved across country, reunited with my family, improved my mental and physical health, got married – wow, when I list it all out, it’s a lot. I have much to be proud of.

This current company gave me my first steady employment back in 2014. In the few years prior to that, I had graduated university, gotten married, moved across country, and promptly fell into a black depression that kept me from working, ended that marriage, and almost killed me. When my wife left, out of necessity I tried to get a job, and in fits and starts worked for three or four companies, but never for very long. Then I found my current job, and it was just what I could handle, and more importantly, it paid what bills I had once my ex’s spousal support ended.

I remember first working for them in a studio basement apartment with my little dog curled up in front of my laptop, in the dead of early, early morning. Then she would curl up next to me as I slept through the day to wake up in early afternoon to work the next shift, she again curled up by the laptop. That dog and this job sustained me though many dark days. For that, I am grateful. It kept me alive in more ways than one. I was at the job, working, when I heard that my beloved grandmother died. I took this job across the country when I moved, and have sat in many different rooms talking on the phone, which is what I do, basically. Life has passed me by while I’ve been working this job.

A feeling of inertia, of a powerless motion-less existence has followed me for awhile during the working of this job. Many people talk of “dead-end jobs” and I would categorize this as one of them. There is no advancement, no improvement, just the same thing every day, in my room, by myself, talking on the phone to people I will never meet or interact with outside of a voice conversation. It has been deadening to my soul. I have avoided talking much about my work because, while I don’t exactly hate it, I have not felt any joy in it.

That is why, now, I am so excited to have sent in my resignation email, and to be looking down at two lonely, little shifts between me and being done forever. I am making a promise to myself that no matter what happens with my next employment, which I start on Monday next week, I will not return to this employer. Again, I thank them for taking me on (twice) and sustaining me, but I cannot work for them ever again. If this next job, for any reason, doesn’t work out, I will do what I must to keep moving forward rather than go backwards.

Some talk of quitting, or not enduring, as a weakness or a failure of character. I am not one of those people. I think that if something isn’t serving, helping, or improving your life, it needs to be ended as soon as possible. Life is so very short, as I’ve learned through Covid-19 and other life lessons, and is too short to work nothing jobs and not live, but exist. I’ve talked for a long time about getting out and moving on, but was too scared to make it happen. Then my employer cut my hours, and I knew it was time to stand up and do something different. Stagnation has not been good for my health, and I really feel that in this death, there will be rebirth.

For what it is worth, I feel really good about my approaching employment. I’m nervous about being able to do what I need to in order to fulfill my new duties. I worry about learning everything I need to learn as I get started, but that is for the future, for beginnings. This is about endings, and I am so glad that this part of my life is ending and soon will be over. I don’t ever need to work this job again, and for that, I am so very, very happy! I have the worst case of senior-itis that I haven’t had since finishing university. It is exhilarating, and freeing. I feel as if I stand on the precipice of something good, and only need to jump and I’ll fly. We will see. In the meantime, two more shifts are between me and my future.

I can quit, I can end, and I can thrive!

Play Ball!

It’s been a while, everyone. I’m struggling to stay positive and forward thinking. Objectively, I am doing alright, but psychologically, it doesn’t feel that way. That’s depression, I guess.

When last I wrote, my job had been halved, and it still is. Since then I’ve been on a job interview, and am doing the maddening waiting game to hear if I have new employment. A painting was in progress, and I finished it, though I am disappointed with the end result (it was a paint by number kit, which I hadn’t attempted since my childhood). I haven’t worked out this week aside from doing yard work on Monday, which hit my fitness goals while not feeling like working out, a net positive I guess. Overall, I feel defeated.

I have created some more pieces for my photography diorama which I am extremely happy with, and I am still working on my 52 Week Photography Challenge, though I missed a photo (which I plan to make up this week). You can see both the diorama bits and my latest challenge pic on my Instagram. I have purchased a few new books that I am excited to try to read. I have projects to work on, and things to do around the house. I don’t lack for directions to go.

Yet I don’t know what is going on. Perhaps I need to adjust medication, or maybe I need to just endure some doldrums. Maybe a new job would provide the pick-me-up that I need. I just don’t know. I am taking at least one, sometimes two, short naps a day, even on days when I work out or am more active. Lately, when I do have a more active or productive day, it feels like I pay for it for the next few days. By that I mean I spend the following days unable to do much other than sit around. I try to give myself grace, and let be what will be, but it’s hard to not feel like I “should” be doing this or that. The sin of productivity follows me all the days of my life, it seems.

Last time I wrote that I don’t want to complain, and while I am trying hard not to do that, it really is difficult. I admit my frustration; clearly I want things that I cannot access right now. If you follow my blog regularly it probably feels a bit down in the mouth recently. If nothing else, I strive for honesty here. You won’t find much sugarcoating, so take this for what it is: a real look at my life. This blog is called A Simple Man, and that is all I am: a simple man, trying to make my way in the universe.

I spent part of yesterday, or the day before, just sitting outside with my pups. It was warm in the sunshine, with a nice breeze. The dogs were soaking up both, and I tried to stay in the moment, practicing mindfulness and being present where I was, not letting my mind wander or my thoughts intrude in the peacefulness. Mostly I was successful. I got some vitamin D, and a small respite from all this negativity that I’ve been experiencing lately. It was great. Then I had to come inside and back to all the grey. Still, I am thankful for what I have right now. It could be, and has been, much worse at times in my life. I’ll take all the forward progress I’ve made.

As always, I march ever onward. I really want to bring a positive blog post soon, and hope I can. For now, it is what it is. I was just watching a baseball game, and the Guardians won a double-header. But I am reminded that baseball is 162 games in a season, and is perhaps the hardest grind there is among the top sports. You don’t win baseball in an at bat, an inning pitched, or even in a game, but over the long haul. If you are not prepared to hurt, to be down and out, and to completely strike out, baseball is not for you. Champions are made from those who show up to the ballpark day after day and tie on their cleats, button up their jersey, and straighten their hat and go back out there to compete again. I’ll take a lesson from my favorite sport, and remember that it isn’t today that determines whether I am on top or not, but rather it’s the many days of being in the sun that proves I am where I want to be.