Post-Thanksgiving Depression

Nothing too serious - just feeling down, frustrated, discouraged, maybe a little depressed.

I had one day to myself last (Thanksgiving) week, and I spent the whole day working on a faith-related project, which in and of itself is good.  But based on previous historical evidence I doubt that I'll see any fruits from my effort/labor.  Not only that but I'm still not done with it.

In addition to that one project, I worked on several other home related projects during the last few days of vacation, and I wasn't able to finish any of them.  

I had some fun with the kids here and there, but mostly I really wanted some free time during the vacation.  I didn't get much, not nearly enough.  Is it ever enough though?   I would love not only time to myself but also more time with Amanda.  Time to chill, hang out, exercise, watch movies, whatever.  Truth be told, we get more date nights than most couples, but multiple days with the kids at home gets old, especially when the weather isn't too great for them to go outside and play

I realized my life is blessed, and nothing is really wrong, but nothing is really right either.  I just feel a little lost, frustrated with what feels like a lack of choices (with money and time) and a lack of accomplishments lately.

My First Time Drumming in a Band

This is the story of what it was like for me to drum in a band for the first time, under absolutely worst case conditions.

Huh, Her Husband Looks Kinda Old

The title of this post is what I was thinking when I recently looked at a girl's Facebook pictures from high school.  Her picture popped up in the "People You May Know" section.  I didn't really know her, so I didn't care to request her as a "friend", but I'm generally curious about where and what everyone from high school is up to these days.  So I briefly browsed through her pictures.  And that is what led me to the subject title.

But that isn't the real reason for this blog post.  Oh no.

You see, after I had that thought, for some reason I had to analyze why I would think that about him.  He looked fairly slim and/or in decent shape (not fat).  He had a full head of hair too.  But there's a little bit of grey, and just a few telltale wrinkles.  Nothing major, but just enough.

And it's the next thought that entered my mind that led me to this post.  That guy in the pictures, her husband, he looks like ME.

I'M that old!

A little bit of grey, a few wrinkles.  DAMN!

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As an update, I showed the pictures to Amanda and she thought he looks older than me.  Because his hairstyle is more conservative and he's dressed in a tie.  I don't know though, she might just be biased.

Son's Honesty = Dad's Humility (and possible motivation)

Lucas asked Amanda this question the other day:

"Mom, why do some guys have bumps on their arms and stomach?"

He was referring to their muscles of course.  When Amanda relayed this to me I tried flexing to show that I had these "bumps", but it was no use.  I used to have them, damnit!  So now I am motivated to start trying to get these "bumps" back.

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Then, today in the car Lucas asked me "Dad, are you the boss of anyone?"  Now, I am currently in various leadership positions at church and in Toastmasters, and in the past I have held leadership positions in almost any club or organization that I have participated in over the years (including the HOA in our Florida neighborhood).  But after thinking for a minute, I realized that I have never actually been the boss of anyone at a professional job (post-college). 

Is this normal, acceptable, humiliating?  Is it due to my profession (there are plenty of engineers who are more experienced and capable than me who still aren't in charge of anyone)?  Whatever the cause, should I care?  And if so then what can I do to change it?

What Adventure?

In my men's group from church, a couple of the guys were talking about their experiences either in the military or in law enforcement.

Then, at work, I had the opportunity to attend a lunch-and-learn where one of the employees discussed my company's efforts to prepare a bid for developing and executing another trip to the moon, and eventually to Mars.  During this talk, he also highlighted his personal experiences, such as flying in a Mig-25 into the upper atmosphere (space?), meeting and working alongside Buzz Aldrin and other famous people.

I can't help thinking "what the heck have I done that is exciting?".  Where is my adventure?  What stories do I have to tell?

Losing My Mind?

I meet with 3-4 other Christian men/co-workers on Thursday mornings before work to have breakfast, socialize, discuss a spiritual topic of some sort, and pray together.

Well, this week the four of us were praying for the person on our left, and when my turn came up I had the ultimate brain fart - I absolutely, for the life of me, could not remember the name of the guy on my left. Not only is he a co-worker who I meet with once a week for prayer/breakfast, but I've been working with him on my current project almost exclusively (besides my boss) for 8-9 months now. To make it even worse, I consider him to be one of my best friends at work. Heck, I even had him and his wife over to dinner recently!

Needless to say, it was awkward to say the least. The only good news is that I did finally recall it again before we finished going fully around the circle. So I was able to make my prayer request on his behalf before we were finished. It scared me a little though, I must admit.

Athlete's Toothpaste

I am usually running late to my car pool. So a little while ago I decided to set priorities in the morning. Then if (really when) I am running late, I can cut out steps to my routine at the last minute to avoid keeping my car pool waiting longer than absolutely necessary.

Well today, after 2 weeks off of work and not enough sleep due to our newborn, I was of course running late. So I grabbed my toothbrush and a small travel-sized tube of toothpaste, and I planned to brush my teeth in the bathroom at work (after my coffee and oatmeal breakfast) like I've done numerous times before.

After talking to numerous people who were welcoming me back and congratulating me on the new baby, with my stinky morning breath, I finally headed to the bathroom to purify my pie hole. I loaded up the brush, lifted it to my mouth, then had a sudden, almost fleeting thought "Was the toothpaste tube larger than I remember?" I looked down at the blank white tube as I was moving the brush toward my face, then turned it over - athlete's foot creme.

I just barely managed to avoid a close call, and that was good. But now I was unable to brush my teeth! So I continued on with my day, and the greetings, welcoming back, congratulations, meetings, work discussions, etc knowing that I was probably torturing the olfactory senses of every poor soul I encountered. And humiliating myself too.

Getting Girly for God

I help out with the middle school group, called Apex, at our church. Last Tuesday evening we were going to talk about relationships. So the woman who runs the children's ministry, Liz, had the idea that we could dress as the opposite gender and talk to the kids jokingly about what we're looking for in a boyfriend/girlfriend, but from a decidedly non-Christian (although still clean) perspective.

I actually had forgotten all about the idea until the Monday night before. Thankfully, Amanda helped put together my attire. Although she's only 5'4" (at best) and I'm 6', she had a maternity dress that was actually long enough for me to use! Sure, it was a little tight in the shoulders, but it worked. Add a few accessories, and viola! As you can see by the pictures below, I make a very ugly woman. However, I am thinking that this is a good thing.


Liz was L-dog. And I was Sophia (another woman who helps out with the kids picked the name, so I went with it).


Seeing the middle school kids' reaction was pretty funny. But seeing my kids' reaction was even better. They were eating dinner when I came downstairs in my female attire. I immediately assured them that it was a joke and only temporary. And after I left to go to church, they were laughing and told Amanda that "Daddy's funny".

What's With the New Blog Title?

The meaning of my new blog title is the result of a recent realization.

1. I am not exceptional at anything, that I can think of anyway.
2. Almost everything about me however, is above average, by an average amount. In other words, I probably fall right in the middle of just average and excellent.
   

This is applicable to things that I have had no say in whatsoever - what God has chosen to bless me with - such as my height, health, looks, intellect, relationship with God, etc. And things that I have worked at improving upon, such as education, occupational skills, fitness, spiritual growth, etc.

The one thing that I can say about me that is as excellent as I could possibly imagine it is my family - both growing up (parents, siblings, etc), and to an even greater degree presently (my wife and children).

Merry Christmas, Pituey

I've noticed a rather gross habit that I have been exhibiting lately, but it's not really my fault and I'm not sure that there's anything I can do about it.

When paying for items that I'm purchasing with cash, which happens a lot when traveling (to Florida) and/or for the holidays (shopping more), I have been licking my fingers before handing my bills to the cashiers.

I realize it as soon as I've done it and yes, I have noticed many cashiers handle as small a portion of my money as possible. I think I've also noticed several grossed out expressions on their faces.

But my the skin of my fingers has been dry lately and my money is stuck together - so what, exactly, can I do? Stop and ask them for a wet sponge that I can dab my fingers on? Ask them if they can spare some hand lotion? Hand them my stack of bills and tell them which ones I want to actually pay them with and for them to hand me back the others? Or stand there with my dry fingers for as many agonizing minutes as it takes to finally get traction on the freakin' bills, while the line behind me grows in size and impatience?

While the act of deliberately sticking my slobbery tongue out of my mouth and running my forefinger down it before passing a now damp greenback over the counter is somewhat humiliating, none of the solutions sound marginally appealing either. Shrug.