Tuesday, April 19, 2011

At Least I'm Honest About It.


















It's been that kind of day. I can't talk about what happens at work, due to all kinds of rules, regulations, mores, ethics, details, forms in triplicate, standards, and people in suits who wear dark glasses (sometimes). But let's just say that lying usually factors into it one way or another. And that gets old really, really, fast. So the real struggle, lately, is finding ways to keep going even as the insanity of the workplace increases exponentially, sometimes to the point where I expect the laws of physics to break down and the game of "opposite day" that we played as children to become reality.

I guess the big question is: how crazy should one be in order to out crazy the crazies, and thus remain sane?

Or something like that. Life is a paradox, you know.

Anywho ...


Ugh ... my head hurts. Pollen has been off the charts here. In fact three of the top 5 "Worst places for pollen in the US" are in Tennessee. Which means I REALLY want to be somewhere else! One Ring and the Dude are both feeling low, and I suspect this is the reason.

The day is finally winding down now, and I'm taking a moment away from paperwork and client sessions to try and gather myself for what comes after work. Today that means picking up the Dude from day care and then going home and mowing the lawn. It's a beautiful day (aside from the pollen), so I really shouldn't complain about having to mow grass. Great way to practice mindfulness, walking meditation, etc., etc. Except that I HATE MOWING THE LAWN! One Ring won't let me pave it, though, and I suspect that the neighborhood association - miserable bunch of lubbers that they are - would protest as well. So there it is, all weeds. And here I am, going to mow it.

I keep telling One Ring that we need to follow John "Ol' Chumbucket" Bauer's lead and move to the Caribbean. She can write her dissertation on the beach, and I can - I don't know - open an expensive therapeutic retreat center for people who actually pay for their therapy! What's not to like about that? It's not like people won't want to visit us!

One day, lads. One day ...

Until then, it's guitar lessons and pedal building projects. My Brian May Treble Booster hit yet another snag the other day when I discovered that there was a missing capacitor that was on the diagram but not on the parts list. And since most of the Radio Shacks around us have died, I had to order the 35 cent part and have it shipped. Hopefully that will fix everything and the "Killer Queen," as I'm calling it, will work. If not, I may have to rethink this hobby. I still need to pull the Tube Screamer clone apart and rewire it. Not looking forward to that chore, but considering the money I've sunk into it, I really don't want to have to toss it or scrap it for parts.

Well, theh hour is moving on and the paperwork isn't getting any smaller. Hopefully I'll be able to write more tomorrow.

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