PhilosYphia

This blog has suffered greatly as of late due to the large number of things sitting on my mind and taking up all my neuronic CPU cycles; when I get to the point of sitting down and writing something profound, I simply blank out, all of the creative and interesting musings having been burned off to a wispy afterthought. In the face of a deep and thoughtful moment, my mind is but a drooling moron.

So, in lieu of writing something that’ll make you think, I’ll simply run through a brief outline of some areas of my life that have been on my mind lately. If you don’t care, no worries — I don’t, either.

My Job

I left my employment of seven and a half years and started the new position of Systems Programmer at Cambrex Charles City on the 19th of November. While I’m still the “new guy” and I’m very much in a learning role, I’m starting to find my footholds in this interesting corporation. I have not met everyone yet in the 200+ employment, but so far my impression is that Cambrex is staffed by people who are intelligent, friendly, and absolutely dedicated and dead serious about the work they perform.

I’ve quickly learned that, while you can joke about your weekend or lunch or your retirement plan, humor concerning the job is taken about as well as yelling, “Freeze!”, in an airport. Which, considering that the company is making human pharmaceuticals, is very comforting. My role is still fleshing out and I’m still learning the various tasks and projects that I’ll be involved in, but it will be more responsibility and mental work than my last job, but in a good way. So far the commute hasn’t been awful (40 minutes each way), but I’m sure it’ll get old in the long run. All in all, enjoyable.

My Moonlighting

As some may know, during my last job I would have periods where we needed extra funds and would do contract work at night or on the weekends to get a bit extra on the side. Now that I have the job with Cambrex, this is no longer needed and, indeed, with Keston in the picture is almost impossible if I want to have anything to do with his upbringing and/or seeing my wife. However, I have obligations to finish off a couple of jobs and they driving me crazy to try to get done. I’m struggling to finish them and/or back out as I can, but it’s taking some time and a lot of Maalox to do. I’ll be forever relieved when they are completed.

My Son

He is a constant source of amusement and education or, in the case of today, poopy. While I was feeding him he obviously shat himself, so I hauled him upstairs. Sure enough, there was a copious amount deposited in his diaper, so I took it off and got a new one underneath him, then proceeded to clean him up. It was at this point that the little firehose of his went into spastic mode and sprayed everywhere, prompting me to cuss and quickly cover his willy with the new diaper — 2nd one down. I pulled that diaper out, put a new one underneath him, and just got done cleaning him up again and he farted and shot liquid crap everywhere. Finally, after four diapers, a clean onesie, a new changing pad, and an untold number of wipes, he was clean and happy. I tell ya, the fun never stops when you’re a parent.

We recently found out that he is officially a carrier, but not a demonstrator, of the disease cystic fibrosis, a fact that we are forever grateful to find out. That being said, the doctor that came and told us the news should be hit over the head with a tack hammer for taking 15 minutes to explain to us the nature of the disease and then say, “Oh, and I don’t think your son has it.” Or should that be a tact hammer?

My Wife

The woman of my dreams has been having a hard run of it lately, I’m convinced. After having an interesting labor and delivery, she had a lot of pain in her abdomen, which we all associated with the two hours of pushing needed to get Keston out. However, of late she has had major pain attacks that last from an hour to five and cause her no end of agony. As it turns out, the doctor is convinced her gall bladder has gone tits up and needs to come out, but we have a specialist looking into the matter on Monday morning. Likely it will be a keyhole surgery and therefore easy and quick, but it’s still a surgery and not one that she looks forward to. Hopefully this will be the end of problems that she has had recovering and she’ll be back on her feet, better rested, and in no pain soon.

My Health

It’s shit, really. I’ve been constantly gaining weight since I came back from Australia in February and/or losing muscle tone. My need to work contracts at night and my job in the day lent to days of sitting on my ass and not doing anything physical at all. Now, at this point, I’m out of shape, tubby, and completely and utterly lacking the motivation to get going on a healthier eating plan and exercise, despite my desperate need to do so. My blood pressure is up, I’m pretty sure, given the number of times I have red ears and/or face, clothes are fitting poorly, and I find myself out of breath easily. I know it all has to change, I’m just trying to find that trigger that will lead me down the right path again. Why does maintaining health have to be one of those things that takes every fiber in your body? Should we just default to being healthy?

So yes, dear reader of mine (who is still reading — bless each and every one of you) — a few things have been plaguing my tendrils of thought lately. I hope to be back in the saddle soon and making you all scratch your heads, but until then, think of me, think of me fondly….to quote the Phantom.

My cell phone lies gasping on the desk in front of my keyboard as I relentlessly poke it every half minute to keep it from falling asleep, the desperate, “LOW BATTERY”, warning on the screen blaring at me, pleading with me to leave it alone. I am persistent, however; my finger pushes it towards that long, dark night so that it may become born again, virginal and fresh. The charger is both the resurrection and the life — in the world of Motorola tonight, there is little mercy for the sacrificial lamb.

The shadowy darkness of the living room seems to heighten awareness of the small sounds that are normally background to the hubbub of life but now punctuate the twilight even as my eyes lose their grip on specific details. Computers whirr and whoosh softly, their internal fans gently blowing a cooling draft past heated silicon. The clackity of my fingers on a keyboard like so many unchoreographed tap dances is met with a rhythmic shuuck-CLICK, shuuck-CLICK from across the room.

My baby son, cranky and gassy from the many relative encounters yesterday and the odd schedule of the holiday, rides on a pendulum of sleep. Moans, groans, and whines softly emit every so often, but the steady tempo continues to be tapped out and he is lulled back to the dreamworld. The furnace fan kicks in and a slight whoosh! is heard as gas turns into flame and heat arises from the basement. The phone lodges another complaint, bitterly.

These sounds surround me, bathe me, as the darkness cuddles me here in my chair, the stark whiteness of the screen ahead of me the only harsh element in this horizon between light and dark, the greynesses of early evening, the shufflings of a winter sifting down through the slate sky and settling in a blanket over the landscape, claiming all green things to brown, active to slumber, warm to cold.

And me, and my thoughts, find free reign in the middle of an otherwise chaotic period of time, the beginnings, endings, and continuations that plague all of us and rob time from our fingertips and years from our chests. Even as I allow myself a few precious moments to tap out some wayward thoughts into this neglected forum, my mind is both enthusiastic and loathsome of the many background issues awaiting attention — lists of projects to finish, paperwork to be approached, meals to be negotiated, life to be navigated.

If I allow myself, I can prompt it instead to wander down paths less travelled, the roads to other minds, thoughts, and hearts, future dreams and ambitions, mental and physical needs yet unfulfilled. These are
overgrown
trails, a
track to be
followed, yet
the caretaker woefully absentThese are overgrown trails, a track to be followed, yet the caretaker woefully absent of late and the trimmers lying in repose for far too long. Flowers in this secret garden still bloom but are covered by sheets of weeds and neglect. Walking down these aisles is an exercise in exasperation; a realization that there are things to be done, but the starting point is difficult to pin down.

And yet, here in the start of evening, I have the sense that the winds have changed and the last season is drawing to a close. I am not yet through the gate and into the garden, but it stands before me now, its outline discernible from the rest of the wall, subtle yet visible hints of a direction to head and a world of options beyond its weathered face. I might still be fumbling in my pocket for the key, but I can now see the knob and I know, instinctively, which way to turn it.

Drifting back to the present place, I shiver in my hoodie, the chill tendrils of the frozen tundra drifting eerily across the floor and wrapping themselves around my ankles and spine. Despite the warmth deep inside, my skin still tingles from the touch of ice — the dampening forces of a world hibernating from the harshness. As I — as we — go on, the fear and trepidation will never leave me, this I know. They inspire the foolish to be wise, the timid to be brave, the lost to be found. The family tree of Good and Evil ends up being circular in nature and first cousins are kissing more often than not. Opportunity begot Strife, Pain begot Pleasure, and the clock ticks onwards…

I sigh, contentedly, as the darkness settles in deeper; night has come, but my eyes shine forwards in the dark to light the path, and I smile as I take the first step of many towards that new day.