Monthly Archives: January 2012

Aaargh! & Ahhh!

Today was a frustrating day.

It was a rough drop-off for my oldest son at school due to a tantrum. From our door to me finally leaving his school was about an hour. We live about one and a half miles away from school.

I uncorked a creative block today at work, but it came at a time that left me precious little time to document it and polish the ideas before tomorrow’s presentations. They will just have to be rough.

My work laptop finally died, with the hard drive thrashing and gnawing like a rat in a trap. I have two important presentations tomorrow, one with a VP, so now I have to use my own gear until the replacement laptop arrives. (Don’t get me started on the options I get to choose from.) I like my personal laptop, but it has the power to generate a stir at work when stirring is not desired.

I bought two of shirts tonight, but it wasn’t until I was walking past the front of the store with a couple of tired kids that I saw the sign advertising three for a reduced price. Thanks, lazy salesclerks!

A project of great endurance almost landed today, but was waved off for another go-around. I’m beginning to wonder if the touch-and-gos will ever be a landing now.

On the bright side, I spent lots of time with my kids today. Four hours with the five year-old and three hours with the two year-old. While they drive me nuts sometimes, they really are a lot of fun, and I was able to get a great picture of the two of them sharing a drink of milk, each with their own straws.

That really made all the other crap I dealt with during the day seem so unimportant, which is was, really.

The Unplanned Parent/teacher Conference

Had one today.

For my kindergartener.

Oi vey.

They grow up, right?

Below Us, Only Clouds

Clouds from above.


“Lisense, regithration, and proof of inthurance, pleaze.”

“Oh, God, a lisp!” He thought as his smirk broke free. “I’m in a fucking movie.” Out loud, “Uh, sorry about blocking the intersection officer, but with all this construction…”

A couple of workers passing by stopped at the exclamation to stare and watch the scene unfold.

“Um, ah, I can explain, officer…”

Tersely, in angry monotone, “Lisense, regithration, and proof of inthurance.”

Karl hastily retrieved his satchel from the back seat and placed it on top of the phone. He fished about for his wallet, and after finding it retrieved his license and insurance card and handed them over before reaching into his glove box for the registration.

“Thurr, this inthurance card is espired.”

The workers guffawed.

“Huh – what?”

“Espired,” he thrust it back through the window.

Taking it back, he saw that it was expired. As of a week ago. He saw the new card sitting on his desk at home in the unopened policy renewal envelope.



Sheepishly, “Sorry, officer, I just realized my new card is at home.”

The mirrored eyes did not blink. Karl returned to the search for his registration. There was some barking in the background, and the lollygagging workers grumbled to each other and moved on. His headache was starting to return with a vengeance.

Instillation of Confidence

It comes neither from volume or rigidity, nor from stridency or conviction, but from the bedrock, innate certitude that anything is indeed possible if one is willing to suspend one’s belief in falling short.