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April's
Fault
with all due respect for
your lectures on the peanut...
4-6
- The other morning
while trying to cool down a bottle for Curren, I began
the daily process of trying to find the remote control
among the couch cushions. Of course I could have just
punched a button on the front of the TV to activate it,
but that's simply not the way my mind works
anymore.
-
- Sometimes
being a child of the information age catches you with
your animal instincts down around your
ankles.
-
- Once I located the
remote control, I thumbed the button to turn on the set.
No
response.
Undaunted, I pressed the switch again, this time pushing
much
harder than
I had the first time. Finally, the set jumped to life. I
had to hold the remote at an angle and move it around
just to get the volume right, and I literally had to
stand right up in front of the screen in order to change
the channels.
-
- After a while this
got frustrating, so I flipped the remote over and popped
the batteries out. I juggled them around in my fingers,
put them back in, and continued the process of searching
for the channel I wanted.
-
The remote was
much more responsive this time.
-
- Between a users
conference for work that put me in Orlando for three
days, and an unexpected stay over in Tallahassee with my
sister-in-law, I hadn't been home in a week. Everything
in the apartment felt a little off, like the way things
don't feel quite right on that first morning after the
switch to daylight savings time. I was in the right
place, doing the right things, but somehow everything
felt like it was taking much longer than it needed to. It
was almost as if I was the remote control, and
someone was pushing into my buttons really hard, trying
to milk that last bit of power out of me.
-
- After Curren drank
his bottle down, I set him loose in his playpen with a
couple of crackers to gnaw on, and I headed back into the
kitchen to make myself some coffee. Yawning cats rubbed
up against my leg as I checked the fridge. I wasn't
looking for anything specific, it's just one of those
morning rituals I have. I open up the door, feel the cold
air against my face, and look around for a few seconds.
If I see something good I might grab it, or I might just
store it into some memory cell for later. I don't know --
it's just something I've done for so long that I don't
exactly remember why I started doing it.
-
- From the ground
came was a complaining meow, followed by another
insistent rub against my leg. I poured some half-and-half
into a dish, made myself a cup of joe, and stared out the
window for a while.
-
- So many
things I said I would do. So many things that I think
I know. So many questions unanswered..
-
- I sipped my coffee
while I checked on the kid, who had fallen back asleep.
It was too early for cartoons, and the television
newscasters seemed to be talking in whispers. I thought
for a moment about checking email, noodling around on the
acoustic guitar, maybe doing a little reading. Nothing
tasted good in my mind. I just kept thinking about the
remote control.
-
- The warmth of the
sun didn't seem to be able to break through the windows
of my apartment this morning, only dust-filled beams of
light snaked through the edges of the vertical blinds. I
cupped my mug in both hands to feel it's warmth move
through me, while I looked at the sun-made tiger stripes
on the carpet. From this distance, they looked like cell
bars. It occurred to be that I hadn't been in this room
in days. I suddenly realized that I didn't want to be
inside today at all. Maybe I could take the kid to the
beach or something, but sitting between these walls was
simply not an option. Somehow these walls were holding me
in, keeping me fat, making my hair fall out.
-
- Maybe it was the
fact that I hadn't really taken advantage of the
opportunities to relax that had been offered to me at the
users conference. Maybe it was the fact that Tallahassee
seemed so inviting in it's calmness this time around. I'm
not sure. All I knew was that my plan, whatever it was
supposed to be, was not working.
-
- I took down the
remaining coffee in my mug and headed back into the
kitchen for a refill. It was, I decided,
April's
fault.
Somehow April was the month that I noticed time going by.
Somehow April was where I found myself again, feeling
much the same as I had an April before.
-
- See, if I were to
ask you what you were doing one year ago today, it's very
likely that you won't be able to remember it exactly. I
think that's where a lot of us live, knowing time is
moving, but not always able to gauge just how fast. But
here, at the end of March and the beginning of April was
always something for me to look back on, some landmark
that stood out clearly from everything
else...
-
- Last April I was
best man at my brother's wedding. Kim was a few months
pregnant, but we were both excited about the child we
were soon to meet. I was having difficulty with some of
my bosses at the school, but at the time it was simply a
matter of them not seeing the method to my madness. I was
a good teacher, and even if it took a little friction
along the way my boss would eventually see that. I had
survived two executive directors before this new moron,
and I would survive this as well. Simply put,
They weren't
going to fire me.
-
- I was in one of
those rare grooves where the answers came along with the
questions, the sun didn't get in my eyes, and nothing was
going to fall apart. I was feeling it, and I shined
throughout my brother's wedding with a confidence that
radiated everywhere I went.
-
- I look back at
that time just a year ago, and I realize just how
different things have become now. It seems that there was
a time when I was able to get myself into a groove and
push it along like a champ, but then for whatever reason
the batteries would always start to fade. But instead of
recharging myself, I just start to push the buttons
harder, try to force things....
-
- How many
different jobs in how many years? How many career
tracks in how many years? How many good things have
soured up and left me looking for a new way out? How
many times have I started over?
-
- What it comes down
to is that one year ago I had no idea that it could fall
apart again. And when it did, I was so shocked that it's
made me more hesitant than ever. My perspectives have
changed. It's like I feel the time that's gone by,
and not the time ahead. I see what I've missed,
not what I have before me. I see what I have to do
for Kim and Curren, not how Kim and Curren make me feel.
Other people see it, but somehow I've made myself blind
to it.
-
- Later that
afternoon while Kim was at her driving class, I packed a
bunch of things into a duffel bag, put Curren into the
car seat, and drove him out to the beach. We played in a
tide pool for a couple of hours, and I watched him clench
his toes in the sand, pick up shells, and splash the sea
water. I watched him smile. I felt the sunlight against
my shoulders.
-
I
got my feet wet.
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