Frenzied Daddy

too quiet, if you ask me. Which you didn’t.

The girls are gone to Grandma and Grandpa’s house, leaving myself and Ms B alone. Days on end without hearing “DAAAAAADDDY” or even “what’s for dinner” or *gasp* “I’m hungry.” What’s a guy to do?

Well, I don’t mind telling you. I’m playing on the xbox, I’m surfing the internets, and I’m enjoying the peace and quiet. But on the other hand, it’s hard to think of what I’m “supposed to do next.” I guess I’d better learn to figure it out because college for Miss B is coming, and someday the girls will move out of the house. And my empty nest will be this quiet all the time.

Well – I’m off to read a book, and build some more websites. There’s always room for more websites. Talk atcha soon!

It’s unusual; for the first time in 2 or 3 years I’m having to “go to work” and it’s more than just going downstairs to my cave. No kids, no cats, the dogs aren’t barking. A guy could get used to this.

I’m parking the car downtown. It’s expensive (a monthly pass will be $100), but it’s slightly more than a bus pass. And the $25 I’m spending on parking (above and beyond the bus pass) is well-worth my time I’d spend on the bus. Imagine an extra two hours of travel per day. On the plus side, the parking garage is about 15 minutes from home. I head across the St John’s Bridge, down Highway 30, across the bump at the turn off to the dump, and head down Naito (Front) to get to the mounted police stables. I turn right there and head across the train tracks, parking in the smart park. It’s quick and painless.

The smart park is kind of small though. I almost put a dent in the Explorer yesterday, as I backed out of a spot watching the car next to me (on the inside of the turn) to make sure I was missing it, I got past it and stopped, only to see that I was a thin centimeter from the pillar on the other side. Whoops! I’m learning to park in places where it’ll be easy to pull out of; so I’m on the third floor usually.

It’s about a fifteen minute walk to work from there. I thought it was half a mile, but Google Maps says it’s closer to a quarter. If I swing up and around Jamison Square, it’s a half mile. As I get better at this, I’m trying to walk it faster and faster. Jogging, carrying my lunch sack and cuppa joe, is messy.

The girls are adapting … somewhat. Miss K doesn’t want to go to the sitter every day. I can understand that, and for the past year she’s been home with me. But we all have to make sacrifices. Miss B is also unenthusiastic about the sitter, but I can’t leave her alone that long in the house. Soon we’ll find stuff for them to do.

As it turns out, I cancelled the short term gig. I was hired at Development Now. They’re downtown in the Pearl district, in a loft above another company. There are no walls, no doors, no offices or cubicles. We’re all working on a counter that spans the entire loft. There’s only a few of us so far though, so it’s no big deal. Very quiet; I bring in my iPod (Thanks again, Rachel) and I’ve loaded some music on the computer at work.

It’s funny; I have a couple of consulting gigs on the side, and I charge substantially more per hour for my time on them. Ben’s getting a deal. But I, on the other hand, am getting enough work to consistently pay the mortgage. I’ve never liked the “no split infinitives” rule anyway.

Sometimes I think about just doing freelance all the time. I’m surprisingly social, though, and enjoy being able to touch base with people. I wonder if there’s any market for … not people working for each other, but more of a co-operative work environment. But for now, I’m paid, and I’m happy. Ben’s nice and laid back. And fed us donuts!

I haven’t laughed like that in years.

For you gamer-types, or ex-gamer types, especially if you’ve ever witnessed the bloody fight between the “storytellers” and the “rules lawyers,” I have to recommend Dorkness Rising. There are people and characters in there that I swear I’ve gamed with; and they’re accurately, if a little hyperbolically, skewered.

If you’re not a gamer, it won’t be nearly as funny. But I think you’d still like it. I was rolling on the floor, laughing so hard I had tears running down my face. Especially at the end, the blooper reel.

But she could be!

I’ve landed a temporary gig at a place in Beaverton, remaking their website. I’ll be working there at least 30 hours a week. It’ll be interesting; I haven’t had a daily “go to work” job in over two years; the last one was Interlink. Since then, it’s been a combination office/work from home or just plain work from home. I’m excited and nervous, wondering about the culture there; do people eat at their desks? Will they understand peanut butter and jelly, an apple and a juice box?

Thirty hours a week won’t keep me from my other engagements. It’s temporary, so I’ll be looking for more gigs. But the stress will be off for a little while.

On the other hand, Miss B will be out from school soon (about this time next month) and we’ll have to discuss if we send her to a sitter or trust her alone. Alone in quotes; the neighbors are awesome. What’s the age you at which you were left alone? I was alone in the house … uhm third grade?

Came home from an interview today (not blabbing about it cuz I don’t want to jinx any of my possibilities) in a great mood and not ready to retire to the basement yet. So I made the TT go for a walk with me. She wanted to take the arthritic Perrin and the elderly Honor for a stroll. I was unable to find both leashes and decided to put them both on the same one with a splitter.

As we got to the other side of the block, a little grey cat went totally bunions-to-the-wall ape-poop. It rose up, hissing at my poor dogs, who couldn’t get away because they old and feeble. Then it walked toward them, hissing, and finally charged them, darting under Perrin, around over his shoulders, on his rump, hissing and spitting. He was so surprised he fell down.

Which is a problem. Now I have a bag of poop in one hand, the other is holding a leash with two dogs on it, the cat is angry, and the dog fell over and can’t get back up. I had to (gently, ‘cuz I’m being totally respectful at this angry yowling spitting demon) swing the dog poop bag at the cat to get it to slowly move away, lift Perrin’s hips up so we can slowly walk down the street from the cat. And while we’re going, the dastardly thing decides we’re not moving fast enough, so it chases us, spitting and snarling.

My poor dogs were so put out. Well, ok they weren’t. They forgot all about it by the time we got a house away and the cat left us alone.

I had a conversation about a year ago with my boss; he wanted to know why I had “blown off” an entire day of work, with plenty of high priority projects in the queue. It was one of those days where I was supposed to get a million things done for work, for home, for other projects, and I hadn’t been taking my brain drugs and had, in fact, spent the entire day reading a book.

I don’t do it often, especially when I’m taking my drugs, but I’d be lying if I said I was perfect.

I had retreated from the high stress world of everything I was supposed to do into some easier world. Like spending my day watching Oprah and One Life to Live. It’s hard not to do that yesterday, today and tomorrow — I have work to get done and a full time job to find, but books are seductive and easy. I’ve reread a couple of Linnea Sinclair Romance-Science Fiction novels, but really, I’m trying hard to stay productive.

The TT and I put in a small raised bed with tomatoes, peas and radishes.

The DQ has the same problem. She’s been hiding in books rather than doing her “boring” homework (some Outdoor School vocabulary books, her normal geography, that sort of stuff). On the one hand, it’s great that she’s reading (it’s fan-tastic that she likes reading), and she is even supposed to read 1000 pages every quarter of school (part of her grade depends on it). On the other, it’s frustrating to have to punish her for not doing her homework.

Both of us have a similar problem; hiding in the books to avoid work/homework. How would you suggest I teach her to focus on her homework?

It’s Earth Day! Congratulations, and happy 4,550,000,001’s birthday to Earth. No, really, you don’t look a day over 4,549,999,000.

It’s also my brother’s birthday tomorrow (he’ll be 38, my waist measurement. Weird coincidence, eh?) and my friend Rachel’s birthday tomorrow (she’ll be 40! Happy Birthday, you young chicken, you!).

The job hunt is going. I had an interview yesterday with an interesting company; they do direct marketing of meditation and self-improvement “stuff.” (Yeah, I’m being kind of vague, but it’s ok). Every time I’ve become unemployed, I’ve been impressed at how much energy the job hunt takes. Not only do I have to keep up on my “normal” stuff, but also have to scour the paper, scour the websites, follow LinkedIn pages, follow twitter feeds, check CraigsList and even check up on RentACoder and Odesk jobs.

If I could finagle a grand a week from RentACoder and Odesk (and craigslist gigs), I wouldn’t need to find a job, but I’d need to make damn sure that money was rolling in. But I can’t make sure of it, so I have to find something substantially reliable. It’s frustrating. It’s also frustrating that I haven’t been to a real face-to-face interview since I met Don at Pacific Coast Fruit ten years ago, in a dress shirt that still had ketchup on it from eating lunch at the preschool with my daughter. I feel a little anachronistic in a dress shirt, slacks and a tie; how many programmers wear those to an interview? I don’t know, but I suspect not many. And I fear my ties are a little outdated too. Goodwill isn’t the place to shop for trendy ties.

Anyway; we’re getting along here, and I’ll keep ya posted with any new news.

Speaking of new news, congratulations to my Mother, who passed her Doctorate presentation and will be doing her studies and other doctorate stuff soon. She’ll be known around the house as “Dr Mom.”