Category Archives: Life

Focus…

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I’ve been having one of those days where it has been impossible to focus on anything for more than a minute or two at a clip. I wish I could blame it on some kind of external distraction, but I can’t. It’s all my own brain jumping from one thing to the next without any apparent rhyme or reason. It’s bad enough sitting here at the kitchen table trying to get through a blog post. It was downright crippling sitting at my desk trying to exercise my renowned skills as a tab-wearing PowerPoint Ranger.

Everyone’s entitled to an “off” day now and then, but when you make your living with your brain instead of your hands, it’s a little disconcerting when you never quite manage to get things into focus. I’ve had days like this before and I’m sure I’ll have them again, but at the moment all I’m hoping to do is make it through New Friday to Saturday (Part 1) and see if maybe a weekend can get my head straightened out.

If you’re not early…

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I’m an early bird. I don’t just mean that I get up early even on mornings when it’s not strictly necessary. I mean I’m early to damned near everything. Meetings, doctor’s appointments, oil changes, you name it. I’m the guy who shows up well in advance of the designated time. Even movies, where we all know the listed “start time” is fictional at best, I’m in my seat sometimes even before they start running the pre-film advertainment. Admittedly even I can accept that there’s no good reason for that one.

This compulsion to be early if possible and on time at a minimum leads to an inordinate amount of sitting around waiting for other people, which ironically, is one of the most visceral of my pet peeves. Experience has taught me that expecting from others what I expect from myself is good in practice, but lousy in theory. While I don’t envision many of my lifetime habits changing at this late date, I’m doing my best to scale back my expectation that others at least make a minimal effort to be on time if there’s no possible way for them to be a few minutes early.

While I’m coming to grips with the fact that most people seem to go through life in a constant state of late for everything, that doesn’t mean I’m not quietly judging you based on your distinct lack of time management skills. If we’re on friendly terms, I probably won’t make a big deal out of it, but I’ll still think you need to invest in a watch and actually consult it now and then. As far as I’m concerned, if you’re not early you’re already late.

Wellington…

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I’ve been reading alot about the 1st Duke of Wellington this weekend. Say what you want about the duke, but the guy lived a life. From colonial Ireland to the wars in India, Portugal, Spain, and France to post-Napoleonic politics, he kept himself busy. Now I’m a busy guy too, but somehow I don’t think Arthur was much worried about keeping the lawn trimmed back home or making sure dinner was on the table by 5PM on the dot. It seems the problem with reading biographies is that every now and then they remind you of all the incredible stuff you’re not out there doing yourself. Then again, the Iron Duke seemed to be a bit preoccupied with exactly those kind of details, so maybe I’m just getting too much sleep.

A week with no Wednesday…

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Since this is the first of 10 more furlough weeks to come, it should be noted that for purposes of record keeping I’ll be dividing the week as follows:

– Monday and Tuesday will be held as scheduled.

– Thursday replaces Wednesday and is immediately followed, as usual, by Friday, which will take over Thursday’s old time slot.

– Saturday Part I is allocated the space formerly occupied by Friday.

– Saturday Part II is takes the place of the traditional observance of Saturday.

– Sunday remains in its historic place as the day that keeps Saturday (Part II) and Monday from crashing together.

Please note that until further notice, Wednesday will no longer being observed by jeffreytharp.com. While posts will continue to appear as normal, official business will only be transacted on Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday as outlined above. Saturday (Part I and II) and Sunday are considered non-working days and will be subject to lying about on the couch watching trashy daytime television, surfing the internet, perfecting a diabetic-friendly rum punch recipe, arguing with the evening news, and otherwise being an unproductive member of society.

We regret that Uncle Sam has made this drastic step necessary and hope that Wednesdays will be restored to service as soon as funding levels allow.

Blue hell…

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I’ve been outside for a grand total of thirty minutes today… and that’s only because the dogs insist on it from time to time. Other than that, I’ve been hiding inside with two window air conditioners cranked all the way over to 11 and the blinds drawn in an effort to lessen the effects of the giant ball of fire in the sky. Maybe it was the 40 straight days of rain we’ve just had, but I’d forgotten just how uncomfortable July can be when you’re acclimated to it. George seems to be enjoying it, but the mammals in the house are officially over the part of the year where we hide inside during the daylight hours.

Woops…

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So in my rush to get through everything on my to do list, I neglected the fact that there are still two more days available in this weekend. Since I’m not the type to just make up things to do, it seems I’ll have more free time than I was estimating. The down side, of course, is that I was expecting a new episode of TrueBlood tonight… But since I’ve got a good book and plenty of ice cold Red Stripe, every little thing is gonna be alright.

Small pleasures…

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One of life’s small pleasures is the feeling you get blowing through the office doors at 4:01 PM on the day leading into an extra-long weekend. It’s a happy moment knowing you’re as far away from your desk as you’re going to get… but being a glass half empty kind of guy, I also have to readily acknowledge that every minute that ticks past after 4:01 is one minute closer to the inevitable let down of being back at my desk when our revels have ended. Happily that’s more a Sunday kind of problem.

To a casual reader I think it must seem like I hate my job. It only seems that way. The work actually tends towards interesting and most of the people fall somewhere along the spectrum of better than average. There are, of course, exceptions but that’s to be expected everywhere as far as I can tell. Like everyone else, the simple fact is there are just other things I’d rather be doing than sitting in a box hammering away at PowerPoint for those eight hours in the middle of the day. For some reason, I don’t think I’d mind working the keys quite so much if I were doing my own writing for those same eight hours. Being a self-published eBook author, though, doesn’t pay the bills. Maybe someday.

This isn’t really a post about work, though. It’s a post about embracing the joy of the time off we do have – about making the most of the time we don’t spend sitting in a box. Whether you’re writing, grilling, boating, swimming, shopping, or just sitting around on your ass not doing a thing, try to enjoy it. The small pleasures are way too few and far between.

A bump in the night…

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Usually when a bump in the night rouses Maggie, she lets out one shrill bark and settles back down to sleep. This morning was different. At 1:52 AM, she came up growling and snarling in that “I’m going to rip your throat out” kind of way angry dogs have about them. Still groggy, I was awake enough to know that was unusual for her and perhaps a warning sign of bad things to come. I didn’t hear anything unusual myself, but I guess I wouldn’t over the sound of hostile lab making her presence known.

Opting for the almost certain overkill of a pump action 12 gauge, I racked a round into the chamber and set out to investigate. Fortunately for everyone involved, a quick sweep of the house proved that all was secure and no one was skulking about with nefarious intent. It’s for the best. I’m thankful it was a false alarm, but in the event of an actual break in, I like to think the sight of a 300 pound naked man with a shotgun and a snarling dog coming down the steps at you might just be enough to give even the most addle minded, meth-ridden thief pause about continuing their activities.

185 emails…

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There’s nothing quite as effective as 185 emails in your inbox to drag you back to reality. Three hours later, at least it’s a relief to know that 10% of them were discussing printer and network-related outages, 80% of them were crap you have no actual interest in, 5% were email from friends, and the remaining 5% are issues you actually need to do something about. It’s possible that I might have sat down and cried if there were actually 185 issues that needed my attention this morning. Even though I was physically present today, clearly my brain is still dragging in from somewhere on the Eastern Shore. Unless something ridiculous happens, it should be a day or two yet before the post-vacation afterglow wears off. I’d like to think that it could last until the 4-day Independence Day weekend, but I think we all know that’s more of a pipe dream than a plan.

Aside from the usual complaints about being back in the saddle, the routine is the routine. That’s probably good and bad. It’s comforting because it’s normal, but it still leaves me with a slightly sick feeling that it’s not what I really want to be doing with the day. Reality. 185 emails. Being a responsible adult is a real bitch.

The worst part…

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The worst part of vacations is that they inevitably come to an end. Maybe if you sat on the beach for a few hours every day it wouldn’t feel like a vacation after 30 years, but I’d be happy to be the test bunny for just such an experiment if anyone out there wants to fund the study. If I thought for a second I could scratch a living out of a combination of writing and being the guy on 27th street who set up beach umbrellas at 9AM and took them down at 5PM, I’d be there in a hot second. Unfortunately, I’m almost positive that I couldn’t manage to get by on a starving college student budget again. I’d be lying if I didn’t say that there isn’t a completely irresponsible voice in the back of my head telling me to say fuck it, sell everything, load up the dogs, the laptop, and whatever else fits into the truck, and head for the coast.

I know everyone has a daydream, but hell, life has got to be about more than sitting in a cube five days a week creating brilliant PowerPoint charts, right? Yeah. So now all I have to do is sell a million books or find someone who wants to pay me $25 an hour plus benefits for setting up umbrellas. Let me know if you’d like to see a resume.