out of touch and confused

I hung with some pals a couple of times this week, it was fun. Thursday I got to bring together three different social circles at the Hold Steady/Drive-by Truckers show, it was a blast. Overdid it a little on $6 concert beers but nobody got killed. Heard a horrifying story from Mike D. Hunt involving donuts, but for legal reasons I can't say any more than that. Got to meet Mike's pal Finn, seems like a super guy and much handsomer and more well-preserved than most 39 year-olds I know. Must be that crisp midwestern air.

Then on Saturday I sat in on a poker game at D. Lee's house. Didn't play, just sat there for a couple hours to see the fellas. Dipak was in town from Chicago. Whatever.

Talking to people from outside my work for more than a few minutes made me realize something, though.

I'm hopelessly out of touch.


Since I had a kid and took this new job in 2005/2006, my entire focus has been on:

-work
-coming home, playing with the kid, putting the kid to bed, etc.

I don't read the newspaper. My understanding of world events is superficial and I get it from half-heard conversations or blogs.

I don't watch any TV shows. No, I didn't see that episode of The Office. I'm sure it was great.

I don't go to the movies. Except Madagascar 2.

I don't go to The Bar. Apparently The Bar is still going strong without me. Fucking emotionless Bar doesn't even care that I'm gone.

I don't really watch sports. Just a little bit here and there, can't name half the starting QB's in the NFL.

Don't remember my friends' kids' birthdays, don't stay in touch enough to know how their jobs are going, how their parents are feeling. Want to send cards and thank yous and be proactive and thoughtful, but it doesn't happen. Have tons of unacted-upon good intentions towards everybody.

Haven't finished a book in awhile. Don't know what's going on in music.

I'm not even really that connected with my own life. Just the parts of it that require my immediate attention. All the heavy lifting and long-range planning is done by my wife, God bless her. School, bills, nanny, playdates, doctor's appointments, it's all a mystery to me.

Could stand to do a situp or two, but haven't found the time. Don't cook, don't eat right, don't get enough sleep.

Mostly I'm just showing up.

It's like I got overwhelmed without knowing it, and I grabbed onto the things I knew needed to be grabbed and lost sight of everything else.

The weird thing is I haven't been depressed about any of it until the last couple of days. Then I started thinking: my job feels like survival every day, it's never easy, there's no slow period or random fuckaround intervals throughout the workday. It's not completely unrewarding, and there are no real douchebags to deal with, it's just challenging and stressful and unrelenting. The only truly great thing about it is that we get this awesome 7 week HIATUS in the summer, so we all have our eyes on that prize.

But of course if you are looking forward with everything you've got to something that's six months away, then you are technically wishing that you could fast forward though the next six months of useless future. And those are six months of a short life you can't get back.

And it sent me into a state of existential panic. Many of us live as if our lives are indefinite. We put valuable shit off and think nothing of wasting a year in a situation that's just not working. In order to function we've managed to back-burner the obvious fact that we are careening towards death every second at 1000 miles per hour.

But that fact exists and it should actually be the driving force in our every decision, the way we go through every single day. The thought already lives somewhere in the back of our minds: FUCK! I'M GONNA DIE! It's just a matter of moving it a little closer to the front. Question: Should I spend another three minutes in front of this mirror grooming myself so I am slightly more attractive? (FUCK! I'M GONNA DIE!) Answer: No that's good enough. Question: Should I ask for that raise? (FUCK! I'M GONNA DIE!) Answer: Of course you should, you have only limited time to save up for your yacht, get started.

We convince ourselves that everything's OK, and it's not. Not at all, dude. You are running out of time, stop fucking around. You should be in your two-minute offense right now. Get your business in order, manage your priorities better, don't take any shit from anybody unless they've got a gun. Suck every last second of fun out of every day. Live with desperation. It still won't be enough, but you'll know you tried.

As for me, I gotta do better than this surviving. I don't know, man, I don't know shit. Which makes it kind of pathetic that I feel entitled to blog about it. And by the way it's awfully sweet of you to read it.

Have a good Monday, you only have so many left. Grab yourself a large iced coffee, take the obvious dirty joke if it's there, and squeeze the people you love.

Most of all, stop trying to act cool. You're not cool and pretending you are is a waste of time. Plus it's embarrassing.