Having a week with no child, I actually went out on a date. Seriously, I the house was clean for days on end. I had time to replace a few appliances and well, had an offer to see the last rays of Summer. Without getting into any specifics of this first date.
The conversation got to talking about my marriage how I was rushed, how I have such a upbeat personality, and how happy are am. I was actually fighting off the case of the blues. Talking about my pass struggles and overcoming them actually brought a smile to my face.
I explain that I don’t regret getting married a year before I wanted to, nor paying child support, (though both creeps into the back of my mind from-time-to-time). At the end of the day, for me, I have a beautiful daughter and great village to help raise her.
I think I’m talking to about $800K before liabilities. She has a good balance sheet. We’re both in the friend-zone. There’s not going to be a second date. (7-second rule)
She starts talking about how she stood-up a guy at the alter (she was in the financial position to do this) and why I didn’t do that. (I was too). Truth-be-told. I said I would be married by thirty. I was 29, when I got married.
I explained my divorce…my wedding.. and the cost adoption and how everything seems to just work-out. She didn’t get this concept and further explains how her family stood by her decision not to get married.
The last rays of Summer gone, we bid each-other adieu.
The blues creep back in. Just looking at the numbers I’m about 1500 down from last year in my take home pay (I’ve forgotten that I’m eliminated debt and don’t need all of it, some of it would be nice)
When I’m not working and have my daughter, that hit isn’t so bad. When I don’t have my daughter and covering for all the scheduling deficiencies of the company. How did Robin Williams hang himself again?
Then the day I finally get to see Maddy, everyone and their grandmother is calling me. I shut it down, and just hang-out with Maddy and do the simple stuff, watch tv, clean, run to the grocery store, make cookies, go to bed and watch Full House.
Looking over the schedule, It’s fucked up and I’m not going to make any money. I’m basically working for free. Not to mention, that I’m going to lose $300-400 in gross pay because of all the inadequacies such as “checking if a client is due for a service this month” or two days! (NPS = CREEP!) Did I mention I’m suffering from the blues, possibly slipping into depression? So it was with a belt…tell me more, tell me more.
I’m actually thinking about a career change and writing down my current cross-over skills and the skills I need to acquire to cross-over. Don’t be a Victim.
I drop my daughter off back to mom and head to work. (time to get out of my head)
I talk with a divorce single dad who had to borrow money just so his kids can have cats without fleas. (which ever parent gets bitten by fleas is the paternalistic one).
Missing my daughter even more, I look at my schedule and regroup. Harold calls me. (ah, God bless him, I may need this meeting more than him. Old souls) We nail down a day to meet
I still have to figure out have to be in 4-places at once. A 4-pm office meeting, a 4-pm flea-retreat, a-client who doesn’t get home until 4:30, and a new client who wants me there after 5.
It will take me 45-minutes to get over the bridge to get to my office meeting on a Thursday. If you can work from home with your iPad and can afford a home on the Cape, when do you leave from Boston for the Cape? (this is over their heads)
While I have your attention, you could pick up a nice minivan on Rte. 1 in Norwood. Grab a Patriots game with free wifi and send the wife shopping. It works out in the end.
Not making an office meeting bothers me. My managers may fix the numbers, but my clients pay the bills.
Working for free, have you ever read my story about working Saturday’s at the beginning of my career?
I just focus on my clients and if I have time, I’ll make the office meeting.
Client one: “I not bitch’n just to bitch. Explain this!” I do. I’m Nervous but very confident, I’m not bullshitting him, and tell a story about a similar situation we have a good chemistry. I have to stop here, as I’m spraying he says, ” that’s a funny story, why would you scam the guy for something that he doesn’t have to pay for?” I reply, “Exactly, I wasn’t.” That’s how we connected face-to-face today..even if I hit the lottery, I still want to make the office meeting.
Client two: I show up an hour earlier, worst case scenario, I circle back and miss the office meeting. She’s home, talking about me behind my back as I’m ringing the door bell, “Mike’s going to be here around 2pm to check the beam”, I check the beam and reassure her it’s water damage which her drainage solution will solve.
I have a new client who has all her Christmas stuff in her outdoor shed, she talked so much that I forget to put bait in it. I had a half-hour window, I stopped by and place the bait-box, instead of waiting for mice to destroy it.
Her divorce cost her $80K, I get giggly listening to her and her best friend interact in their over-55 retirement park. They are truly happy.
Client three…we just shoot the shit…I’m completely out of my head, him in comfy clothes (got kids) I explain that I still have one more client to go before I go home. He was on my way to that client.
Client four…is a Liz Warren look-a-like, I’ve never met liz warren. (full disclosure)
She explains all her thoughts about this basketball size bald-face-hornet wasp nest that’s outside her son’s bedroom.
The excuse that a previous company gave about not having the right later.
I inspect the attic and inform her that there’s not infestation. Then as she watches through the window, I drag out the hose form my truck sprayer then soak the nest.
She steps out of the front door and slowly walks toward me. I explained what I did, what should happen, and I’ll be back in 5-days to remove the nest, her son has nothing to fear.,,,
fuck I missed an office meeting, damn scheduling department…
the blues..maybe I don’t belong in company. My mentors..write down your cross-over skills..
1) I enjoy interacting with people
2) ……………..I like toyota trucks?
I guess it’s time for my next chapter… I’m tired and my knees hurt.
Playing around with my Facebook settings, I finally see my best friends post. He never shows up in my Facebook news feeds. Enter Depression. I rarely, use Facebook anymore. The Newsfeed depresses me. It basically, excludes the people I actually care about in this world.With the exception of a hand full of friends. This is where twitter succeeds.
It let’s me sit in front of the boob-tube and select the people I’m interest in. Facebook is jumping the shark and trying to tell me who I should listen to. Both are Boob-tube experience. Traditional News Reporting is dying hand-over-first (I think I have my semantics right, can you double check this?)
Just by chance – while my daughter is on her summer camping trip – I facebook search my best friend (I usually don’t have the time for this) – He recommends a video of one of my childhood friends making a stand in front of Board of Selectman.
Everyone knows, it too close to home for me to intervene. I’m bored, have some time, and just unwinding. I watched and listened the first hour with my ear-buds on,(I’m being the harshest critic) then I turn on the speaker and listen for the next 2-hours as I cook my marinated shoulder steak and put away the laundry.
Again, it’s too close to home. I don’t have a say in this decision.
If you were one of maybe 5-people, you would know that I know this candidate, or our history goes back to picking him up from his home (up on a slanted hill), other than that….THAT’S PRIVATE.
Anyway, figuring that he needs a favor, since this was via my best friend since the 8th grade (Assawampsott)…I search and search for an ace (I owe him $40 that I never did need..community involvement) I didn’t need the $40, he doesn’t need my Ace. That’s what friend do. Hopefully, we get to pass this message along.
After listening for another 2-hours….I’m reminder of the importance of community involvement that all the candidates have…and how hard it is to make the numbers works, never-mind how to tactfully handle the culture and team atmosphere.
I may have jumped the shark, my high school friend doesn’t need me, he has a good vision and he truly lives for this community outreach stuff…does he have a sgt. detective who has befriended our liquor store owners.(they are more american than you!) Are the other candidates listening
I remember talking to Bobby Ambrose pumping gas near the old Twin Elms (Rockland Trust buildling), Clear as day, he said, “you have more money than God”
I understand this now – again, it’s too close to home. I don’t have a say in this decision.
I have my cause: outreach and community involvement, and a few guys and gals looking out…
I guess the big question is can you make the transition from military leader to civilian leader logistically?
Making sure you’re police force is thinking with a clear heads? Some run, some drink, some watch a baseball game every Tuesday.
Only a fool eliminates that.
Bottom-Line: Change doesn’t happen overnight… stick to your vision not your guns.
One of the toughest parts of my job is that I have to work each Summer while everyone is going on their Summer Vacation. Unlike other Summers, I’m ahead from day one. After a tough 3-year course of Hard Knocks, I have my family vacation money already in the bank before the season begins. I still haven’t paid for it. This month I will. Without impacting the savings that I had 3-months ago, not to mention what I’ve added to that. (Pay yourself first)
It was a tough 3-year course of Hard Knocks, I’ve learned to budget, budget a little tighter, and then the realization I can own my time and not work when I don’t want to.
Basically, I stopped keeping up with the Jones’s and focused on what makes me happy.
What makes you Happy? Truthfully, what makes you happy? Are you doing it now? Why not?
I just wanted to go home and watch the Patriots, my first real taste of NFL football.
The blues creep in…I see Facebook Post of people with their kids at Gillette Stadium as I’m tired and wiped-out thinking about the mortgage payment I pay for in child support and having a full day of work to complete on a Saturday.
I’m feeling a little less of a man and a father, never mind that I could never buy another piece of property on my own. (I’m forgetting to factor in inflation, which works in my favor!)
I’m forgetting a lot here. First of all, I hate going to Gillette Stadium. There’s nothing better for me to watch football on my couch and write. Maybe once a year, I’ll catch a football game in person. If I have too. It’s not my thing.
Second of all, my ex-wife and her beau are trying to share their summer vacation with Maddy with me, not rub it in my face as I’m working another Saturday. (Don’t forget to send picture from Christmas at Disney that you already paid for..can you take Bella? Just asking [you got a week off from parenting])
Third of all, I have a job that is easy to me, that I enjoy 85% of the time that pays the bills and then some, including retirement.
Today, this week. I had the blues.
Be Kind; Everyone You Meet is Fighting a Hard Battle
Would you take this moment to step on my dick?
In the past it would could take years for us to figure it out, today I fall asleep already knowing that there’s some guy half away across the globe looking out.
My daughter is having a great summer vacation with her mom, beau, their close friends and building great childhood memories and friends for my daughter, while I’m slammed at work, taking a break to watch Patriots Football and Regroup. Woe is me. That’s the Blues, for ya.
If I put in the extra work while I don’t have my daughter, I can add to my savings and pay for the plane tickets for Christmas at Disney for my daughter…and niece!
You want to make it a competition between my ex-wife and me. It’s not.
They enjoy Summer camping, I enjoy Winter at Disney. Sorry Baby Bella, I’m too far removed from diapers to teach you about being the anti-bully. Maybe next year.
Anybody, or Anyone who knows me, knows I’m trying to work dating back into my schedule. Of course, the week my ex-wife goes camping with my daughter, the company I work for, needs to file my bi-yearly performance review. Meanwhile, I’m finally planning a date night, for mental health reasons. After a couple of breathes sitting outside my supervisor’s office while they complete a spreadsheet for god knows what, I start a text and give divorce advice, knowing I’m going to be late for at least 2-of my appointments (I’ve been here before, we’ve all have been here before, 6-months ago) Meanwhile, I’m reminded how Marissa Mayer restore Yahoo! She ended work from home option at the start of her tenure. I start talking to Doug and our trials and tribulations about making time out of our day for this review, then as we wait, we discuss further our problems as route technicians. it’s a different world for us now that I don’t work in summer vacation land, but there’s a couple of points that crossover. He doesn’t delegate enough and I might delegate too much.
I might be able to increase my pay with minimal impact to my pay, he might be able to increase his personal time with minimal impact to his pay.
Old eagle ears is listening. I’ve worked with this guy for 10+ years. I say what I think (it’s called honest candor)
As I’m complaining about the lack of sales this year – it’s pretty much a universal constant – I’m pounding away with questions to my supervisors of how our sales calls compare to the rest of the company. Old eagle ears listening. (pay attention it’s not a typo, I like this guy)
In years past, old eagle ear’s anxiety would have gotten the best of him. You ask him to jump, he would have said how high?
He still brings up that story about how he was afraid when we had to meet his new regional manager at the Warwick airport, John seemed comfortable for a guy filling a position that the last two, maybe more Regional Managers before him was fired!
That meeting was perfect. Jim got to meet John, John got to meet Me, then Jim’s confidence…wrong choice of words… Jim’s anxiety disappear along with the company’s old school Salesman’s bullying culture.
There’s not room in this company for bullying. Maybe Jim forgot as he was trying to scrounge of some sales. I didn’t.
I like my team and how I can pass the buck until I have the answer. I haven’t even started on how Jim was heartbroken that he didn’t get those Regional Manager’s jobs…. Positions, plural (positions) that don’t exist anymore.
“It’s kinda fun to do the impossible” ~Walt Disney
Relax, Just be of use… Maybe read a book or article about servant-leadership.
This was the first weekend that I didn’t have to: worry about money, my kids well-being, to keep my niece and daughter pre-occupied, nor did I have to work. Child Support is expensive, just ask the guy with (1) year to go, unless the daughter attends college. He seems happy.
This was my first weekend to focus on me. To pick up the place without the kid right behind me, being a dirty little gremlin. Everything was finally in it’s place. As I looked around, it was obvious, I needed an old school heavy cast iron skillet to make me happy. Maybe you restore cars, antique homes, or fish…I cook to decompress and relax. I’m just off, if I don’t have an cast iron skillet. I’ve been so busy. I forget. Because of my divorce and the process, I forget that all I need is a cast iron skillet
My plate was full, so God handed me a tray
With all the stipulations of my divorce, I still have the burden of my brother’s drug relapse, my niece’s mother relapse, and the well being of my niece.
I just go and go and go. I finally have time to myself.
Instead of yelling at my brother for not cutting the lawn. I walk down and and try to start the lawn mower (I miss cutting the grass myself) I get gas and check the lawn mower. (i’m very mechanically inclined) It still doesn’t work. I’m confused.
Rather than walk all the way around the house, I lift the screen and wiggle the window lock loose, pet the pit bull and explain that I’m not a ghost. My brother comes around and says, “He thinks it’s the spark plug, but there’s no air filter,” he cleaned out what the air filter is suppose to do.
I tell him not to worry about it, we’ll do it tomorrow. He later returns unscrewing the spark plug that we need. It’s in my pocket and on my buy list as I travel on Monday.
Does your roof leak? Does your lawn mower not start? Both are a simple fix… a 5-minute fix for deaf brother.
Yes, I remember when you called my brother a “stupid deaf” we’re not blind.
I read people almost as quick as my brothers,
18-months ago, I would have been pissed about being bothered about the lawn mower, today. I enjoyed the lesson on how a lawn-mower works.
My brother, enjoying me not being a jerk.
I had my own battles, which including paying for the roof over his head that allows his family to sleep.
You can focus on the problems of the past, or the solutions of the future…
Today my brother removed the spark plug from my broken lawn mower.
How many times do I forgive my brother? Matthew 18:22 – Jesus answered, “I tell you, not seven times, but seventy-seven times.
The olive branch extends into what we need to do to improve the property that we occupy, that I’m trying to figure out how to move out and make the number’s still work without kicking him out. If I show my brother’s the month-to-month numbers he runs. He finally gets it. He gets that his relapse cost his family a vehicle(new brakes). It cost me an opportunity to replace the roof on the cheap (I still can’t find the right deal on skylights, but for the right price, I’d go without).
Then we start talking about this last property that I own and we talk about all the restoration that we can do ourselves… I guess after all these years it finally clicked. You got it pretty good. You don’t need to speed things up, you need to slow things down and build a fire-pit with you’re daughter, she’s going to need it when she goes to BSU to become a teacher.
The hicks in Ferguson, Missouri are drawing the attention away from why our “good cops” (90%) need access to military assault rifles and a few military vehicles depending on the location. Maine could use humvees, instead of the standard cruisers.
It’s Military Surplus from the Iraq war, If every SWAT team doesn’t have access to a military vehicle or two, you let these dumb fucking hicks win.
In my small town, I’ve got to meet the officers that serve and protect my town. Whether it be a false house alarm call, the domestic abuse calls during the my divorce (they saved my life), or the fact that I was suppose to show-up for the 209A hearing that got mailed to my ex-wife. My brother still wonders why I don’t let him drive anything register and insured under my name. He didn’t have to pay for the K-9 units and helicopter that search for the driver that snowy night. What Military surplus item would have helped that search?
Extreme desolate locations needs these military vehicles – instead of a Ford Explorer – for public safety reasons. Maine, the Dakotas,,,, the 99% white police department with a 20% black population, this probably is not a good idea. A 99% white police department with a 98% white population, that’s a good idea.
The fact is: we have a surplus of already-paid-for military vehicles from the Iraq war that will help the 90% of good cops that we have by alleviating their stress of the “what if” scenarios that they have to deal with and help them sleep at night and think clearly during there shift. What’s the downside?
Don’t let a few power hungry, never-served-a-day-in-the U.S. Military-hicks destroy this program for our veterans who have PTSD and are working each day as… policemen, firefighters, EMT’s.. a Nanny and Mom! instead of an Army Nurse, A Mom of three who returns home each day to her 3-daughters… Each day needing the reminders that, “You’re home” you’re not leaving again.
Is there anything better knowing you’re asshole best friend has anything and everything to keep your child’s smiling face safe?
(Do you still make Tater Salad? Don’t forget to bring it to my kid’s birthday party.)
Back to my home town Police force. I interacted with them, they interacted with me. If they grab a M-16 and jump in a humvee. I know I need to take shelter. It’s not a show of force to a law abiding citizen.
If I’m protesting something (stop signs vs. yield signs), there might a bunch of trash talking, all the military vehicles stay in the yard. I may, or may not get tasered (for the kids)
Long story, short. Don’t give Military vehicle to the wrong demographic.
Those hicks in middle america..fuck’em. We’ve been through too much shit.
Do you know why they call David Ortiz, “Big Papi”? It’s because he’s terrible at remembering names, So he calls everybody “Papi”, it makes the small guy feel included into the club. Hence, the charismatic term from his inner circle, “Big Papi”. (the father)
Big Papi gets to speak and people listen, (little) papi, not so much.
It might be when David Ortiz complains about a called strike, it’s not about him, but the called strike that was made against player that just got called up from the minor leagues.
Long Story Short, he’s from the Dominican…Republic.
I don’t now much about the actually origin of name Redskins. I remember as a child an aunt being intrigue by the American Indian culture, my black cousin’s – there was only two who came out white – who was my childhood best friend, favorite team was the Redskins because their jersey colors was similar to his dad’s semi-pro football team colors. Maroon.
My uncle played Defense, number 52, He never scored a touchdown, but got a fumble or two.
In 7th grade as I got drawn into football from an older neighbor, I tried out for the green and gold, no not the Green Bay Packers, granted we studied and watched them on VHS. This is where I met the next best friend in my life. He was a football teammate, a classmate, which playing pop-Warner football strengthen our bond. A die-hard Redskins fan (like my cousin) and a died-hard Canadians hockey fan. I would fall asleep watching Bruins Hockey on a 13-inch black and white TV, just so we had something to talk about after football season was over. There’s a good chance I’d still give the shirt off my back for him. Then again, there’s that process.
I don’t remember my Pop-Warner Football team’s name. I going to take a guess and say it was the “Falcons”, maybe the Eagles? I do remember that we had the Michigan Wolverines helmets during pop-warner, and then the seahawks emblem during high school.
We went to UMASS Dartmarth football camp together (thank you ma) with Scott. That’s how I learned about Pepto bismo. (personal guy talk)
Back to the Redskins name.
If you ever sat in Schaefer Stadium in December as the Seahawks beat the 1 and 15 Patriots and your College Football Hero was out for the season. You would understand how much I wish I was a Redskins fan.
I traveled all that way, to sit in the freezing cold to see my first Patriots game at Foxboro Stadium to watch the Patriots lose and not see Brian Bosworth play. I’m a OU fan. Returning to school Monday Morning, let’s just say it wasn’t epic.
It was very un-Redskins like.
Did I mention my cousin and my best friend were both Redskins fans who haven’t been to a NFL football game at this point in our lives?
So I return from this freezing cold game and both: my best friend, and my cousin (when I see him), talk about how the Redskins either won, or were in this Epic NFC East Battle.
That’s what the Redskins name means to me. Winning! The epic NFC East battle between the Cowboys and Redskins. Then diving deep into my encyclopedia and history books to read about the real battles between the Cowboys and Indians.
When I see the Redskins play that is what I’m remind of, along with the current struggle of American Indians, not to be confused with the people of India and their Elephants, or Indiana and Larry Bird. Confused? Brown, Redskin, Redneck.
If we eliminate the name Redskins, that will complete abolished any representation that American Indians have in the NFL The one day that people have to unwind and decide what cause to support and give money to…is there any other Football team that’s a PROUD reminder of the American Indians?
Today. There’s $12.5 million directed towards the boro for a rehab hospital, this is pretty cool. The entire award is $27.5 million for all drug addicts that need rehab or mental health services (not just my brother) that’s fucking awesome.
Imagine if I asked people to stop calling me “little papi”, Mark, Jason, or John (however they remember me) instead of mike.
They would have never listened to me, or my story. And this dream would have never happened, this St.Luke’s Hospital rehab reality would all go away, disappear. Poof, Gone. Just another pipe dream.
The Redskins is a name of tradition, strength, and honor. We can’t take that last bit of hope from our American Indians, not to be confused with the browns from India, or the Rednecks from Indiana.
What doesn’t the name “Redskins” mean to you?