The Beatles Have Beat Me to All the Clever Titles for This One

I almost lost yesterday.

From the moment I walked out the front door to deal with the day’s to-do list, things slowly began to go awry. Not that I was looking forward to yesterday in the first place. How could I? What I had lined up were chores and work; no hobbies of mine. Still, you’d have expectations of how those things should go. And that’s maybe what got to me: the drudgery going wrong.

I ended up walking twice as far as I thought I would have to (we’re talking around 8 kilometers total, you do the Math), all because of fine print; those little bureaucracies involving lessor and lessee. That’s probably why they use those terms. The root word is less. The lessor doing the diminishing in money, time, and sanity; the lessee being the subject of said diminishing.

After my second trip to the lessor’s office, the awareness of the huge chunk of money that was going to be hacked away from our bank account loomed overhead, adding to the already existing mass of gray clouds from all the work that needed doing to meet deadlines that have come and gone.

“When was I going to be able to finish checking that two-foot stack of papers? What about the reports? Where’s the time for that?”

“Why did we have to spend so much time and money to get our lives back? Those lives are ours, for crying out loud! It’s not like that stupid fire was any design of ours.”

In all arrogance, even at that time, I was smart enough to know the answers to my rants. For every complaint about not having time, I always remember Robert De Niro from Ronin. Nobody has time, you make time. It’s as simple as that. As for the unfairness of it all, it just is. You get dealt a hand, and you have to play it. You’ll have to lose sometimes. And quite frankly, losing money in the game of life is a small price to pay compared to losing the game altogether. Having money in a bank account isn’t really how I’d define having a life anyway.

But of course, all the intellect in the world wouldn’t amount to squat without wisdom. And it is in trying times when we have the greatest potential to be less than wise. I did not listen to myself reason. And by mid afternoon, the collective weight of my problems was oppressive, concentrated on my chest. I remember AC’s post about having that deep hollow feeling on that day that didn’t turn out as expected. Mine didn’t either. But I did not feel a void; it wasn’t hollow. It was dark, to be sure. But it had mass. It had weight, and all of it resting on the bottom tip of the heart. It was all there, pulling down with so much gravity that every breath was a struggle. I had been told by a close friend the day before that my family was too calm for people in our position. Apparently, she was right. I guess we all have our limits, especially after more than a week of being up to your necks in shit. Something’s got to give.

Having had our phone and internet just installed, I was considering writing a post about how I felt. I imagined how I would articulate, in complete detail,  all the actions that that dark weight was suggesting I do. But I decided against it. Maybe because it would be too dark and end up scaring the young ones (you know who you are). Or maybe it was I who was scared. Not of the darkness, but of being seen in a moment of weakness. Being twenty-or-so years older, but none the wiser. Not having the answers. Just as human. Just as flawed.

Now remember that I did say almost.

Later that afternoon, my wife came home from work. As always, she helped me catch myself midway of falling down. We went out, picked out a new table for the desktop, and loaded up on Chinese food. By the time we were walking home later that evening, things were looking to be okay. Not up, but still okay. I spent the remainder of that night setting up the desktop on its new table and doing some real customizations to Excess Bloggage, along with some Bubble Gang on the side.

I ended up not getting any work done yesterday, but it helped me to wake up ready to work this morning. I’ve made good progress, actually. That’s why I can afford to take this extended lunch break and write this post. I’ll be done with all of it by Monday. Unless of course another catastrophe comes knocking. Wouldn’t that be hilarious.

When friends of mine are down, I always tell them it can still be a good day. It’s harder to tell that to myself though. And much harder to believe myself when I do manage to say it. But it’s true. The day can turn around no matter how late the hour is, especially with a little help.

Well, lunch break has ended. This is really more for me than anybody else. But if you got this far, then thanks for your time and patience. Don’t worry, lighter posts are in sight.


Needs and Eventualities

I have to write. The conditions are far from optimal, but it has to happen. Otherwise the words will continue to germinate in my head like a clay pot containing a seed that is slowly growing into a tree. A tree that will inevitably outgrow its pot. Everyday, its roots push against their earthen confines determined to fully come into being. If not tended to properly, the tree will keep on growing until it breaks the pot that nurtured it in its youth. On the other hand, the pot might just be strong enough to stop the tree’s growth and kill it.

I don’t want my thoughts to grow, breaking my mind in the process. Neither do I want them to wither and die, and fade into the forgot. So, I transplant them. I write. It doesn’t matter when, where, or with what. Once written, I know my thoughts will eventually find their way to the right medium and reach those meant to know.

Just like now.

Written on February 18, 2011… still on my phone…


When I set up this blog, my plan was for my first entry to be about ADHD and how it leads to Excess Bloggage. Part of that plan was to write the entry from the comfort of home, using my trusty desktop, logged on to my blog account, and only after customizing, to near perfection, the theme that I have chosen. Instead, I find myself not at home, typing away on the rather unwieldy keyboard of a touchscreen phone I hardly know how to use, not logged on to my blog account, and having made nary a customization to my theme. To top it all off, I am not even writing about ADHD.

John Lennon had it figured out. Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans. I made plans. Grand plans. Perfectly laid-out, meticulously-detailed, foolproof, master plans. Then life happened.

Written on February 17, 2011 on my phone…

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