The Brain-Dead Blogger

Sometimes I just don't feel like blogging. Part of me screams out, "Blog, you fool! Sit down there and pour your thoughts and feelings out! The whole world wants to learn your story!"
At the same time, part of me speaks, drawling in the same voice Eeyore uses on Winnie the Pooh, "I guess you could blog... If you felt like you had anything to write about... Not that it matters if you don't..."

Yesterday I felt so disconnected. I can't really put my finger on it. Maybe what happened was that I allowed myself to become derailed by other people's schedules again. When I got up yesterday I already knew that I probably wasn't going to see Suzie all day, and that may have been the whole problem. I think my mind was working reactive instead of proactive. I decided I was going to get my domestic duties done, then wash my car at Teresa's house. I figured while I was doing some laundry I could get a toilet and a shower cleaned and still have time to work a bit on my website. Before I got started on any of it Sue sent me an email saying that I was welcome to come up there and wash it at her house instead, which for some reason never entered my head as a possibility. I saw hope for the day then!

The phone rang. Part of me dreaded picking it up for fear that it might be Teresa, whining about another part of her house falling apart or Sarah being a surly teenager. No, it was Denis. He wanted to know if I felt like riding along with him to look at a 50's model Willys 4wd pickup that some guy had for sale out in Spanaway. I hadn't visited with my brother in quite a while (after all, we live several blocks apart!) so I decided that it would be fun. It was a beautiful day for a drive (although I much would have rather we rode our Harley's instead) and we had a good visit. I kinda doubt he's going to buy the rig though... It was pretty rough. Although when you think about it, it is 50 years old after all...

While I was out there I got a text message from Sarah saying that she needed to play some tennis because tryouts were tomorrow. As usual, she waited until the last possible minute. That's ridiculous. You can get away with that when you're writing something or doing homework or whatever, but not sports practice. She makes it like one session on the court is going to do it for her. Wrong. Besides that, she's still sorta sick from a cold she caught last week. At any rate, I said okay and went over there after Denis dropped me back off at home.

She wasn't even dressed yet and it was after 2pm. Teresa was out with their dog. I guess she went over to her friend Noelle's house or something. Anyway, Sarah was working on some sort of homework thing (probably just started that at the last minute too) and I walked around the house a bit. What a filthy mess. I would be embarrassed to live there. Oh wait, I remember that--I believe I was as a matter-of-fact! By the time we got to the tennis court it was after 3. I doubt if we played for an hour. She said she was tired and didn't feel good. Okay, here I am, an out-of-shape 51 year old and I'm running circles around a 17-year old? Hmm. I was enjoying it and could have stayed longer easily. When I took her home we had to wait around outside for a little bit before Teresa got home to let her in. She couldn't find her keys (in that house it doesn't surprise me) so we just left to go to the tennis court regardless. The instant Teresa got home she started whining about Sarah again. It's obvious that she can handle the "nuts & bolts" of being a single parent well, but not the emotional/disciplinary side. The trouble is, when she starts in like that I just feel like I have to run and escape. I don't know if that's the right thing to be doing, but I just feel so "wrong" when I go over there. I feel very out of place in their house. I guess it's just that I left that household for a reason, and part of it floods back whenever I go back over there.

I never made it up to Suzie's and I was sad about that. I moped the rest of the afternoon and evening, never really coming out of the funk that I found myself in. Nothing got done here at all. Nothing.

Saturday was fun. Sue and and helped her son Denny and his wife move a load of household goods to there new house. They are excited (and rightly so) to be leaving that house in Pacific. It sits right next to train tracks, and for those of you that don't know it, a lot of trains go through this valley. They moved to a quiet neighborhood right up the street from Sue's house, so they're probably have to have recorded train sounds to help them get to sleep for a while. As a matter-of-fact, they're only about 4 houses away from Sue, so that will be good for babysitting duties when she has to watch their son. It's a nice neighborhood. Anyway, we didn't stay all that long because it was in such a disarray. They should have rented a big truck and gotten it done all at once, but instead were using the multi-vehicle "caravan" approach. That works too, but it's a lot of work getting things to fit (if they even do fit) and it takes longer to accomplish. Sue and I were both kinda tired anyway from lack of sleep the previous evening (that's another story) and left after that first load. There was just too much standing around and things weren't getting done anyway. We finished off the evening by watching my slides and critiquing my photography skills. Suzie got even more of an insight to my life by watching them.

I guess I'm still okay--She hasn't run away screaming yet.