Over the past few days, I have started three separate blog entries about three wildly varying subjects (and don’t even get me started about my sudden bout of writer’s block), all of which I plan to complete and post—as long as I don’t die first. Which means you might never get to read them … because I fear that the Grim Reaper lurks close by, and might just take me at any moment. Tonight, even.
Why? Because I went running today for the first time since, like, last October. (And I am taking tremendous poetic license in using the term “running” to describe what it is I did out there today.)
I had forgotten the hefty price that must be paid for doing my sorta-kinda-running thing for the first time in months. Now I remember: it feels like someone has wrapped both of my legs in honey-smoked bacon slices and slowly lowered me into a tank full of rabid, steroid-enhanced, knife-wielding piranha coming off a weeklong hunger strike. Oh, and also like I’ve been hit in the head—with a croquet mallet.
Which wouldn’t be so bad had this morning not been my morning to get up with the Pre-Dawn Duo—but it was. And, in case you haven’t been paying attention, I am violently allergic to, um—what do you call it?—oh yeah: morning.
But the straw that broke the camel’s back was my decision to follow up my run by finally tackling the long, long, loooooong overdue task of cleaning my office—you know, the one I said back in September already was in dire need of attention? Yes, that’s right: I didn’t get around to actually cleaning it until almost five months later—by which time drastic measures were required.
I cleared everything off my desk (a beautiful glass-top number that is quite pleasing to the eye—or, at least, would be, were it not for the fact that it spends most of its time completely obscured by the mountains of garbage I pile high atop it) and chiseled off months’ and months’ and months’ worth of dust, then crawled under the desk to battle the filth and cobwebs that had accumulated all over the external hard drives and backup power supply and wireless router and subwoofer and cable modem and VOIP adapter and power strips and can you believe there’s only one electrical outlet in this entire office?
Vacuuming also took place, and the duel to the death that ensued between me and the Killer Dust Bunnies was PayPerView-worthy. I didn’t know dust could accumulate to the point of actually needing to be fed and let outside to go the bathroom.
To give you some idea of just how disgusting it all was: I blew my nose after finishing the job, and the gobs of dust that had built up in my shnoz turned the tissue into a Jackson Pollock. I’ll be framing and hanging it shortly. Perhaps I’ll raffle it off. Interested?
Anyway, it took HOURS … and I still haven’t returned everything to its proper place … but the major grunt work is done. Meanwhile, however, I haven’t been this wiped out and exhausted since god knows when—which is saying a lot, because I’ve been generally wiped out and exhausted non-stop since June 11, 2003 … but this is taking it to a whole new level.
So what I’m trying to say is: [YAWN] Good night, Interne—ZZZZzzzzz.
Eeewwww – that was gross!
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That was gross, but I know what you mean. Same thing happened when we went to Paris and spent hours in smoke-filled restaurants. Yuck.
So, will you please come clean my office next?
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I don’t know how you manage to take a simple task like cleaning out your office and turn it into a hilarious story, but you do it well.
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now you know what it’s like to be a mother.
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Belle: Yes. You’re welcome.
Val: Cigarette smoke? Double yuck. Oh, and: No, I won’t come clean your office next. Sorry!
Candice: Thank you for making me feel like it was worth writing about.
TheOtherJennifer: You must have me confused with men who don’t do anything to help keep the house up or take care of the kids. I don’t need to know what it feels like to be a mother; I’m a father. A fully involved, tapped-out-to-the-max father, thanks.
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Eh–it was worth a shot!
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I can empathize with your leg pain. I’ve been training for a 5K and the other day I did so many miles and squats that I literally couldn’t crouch down low enough to sit on the toilet! It felt like if I tried to lower myself much more that my thigh muscles were going to snap in half!
I am owed a tremendous amount of gain for all of my pain! Sounds like you are too! Hope you feel better soon!
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Isn’t it funny how you go out running and then decide you take on the world? I have the same problem, so I have decided, for my well being, to stay firmly planted on the couch.
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what an interesting site. Stumbled upon you via PW. You sound like a wonderful dad (and husband) Keep up the good work! Will check back often!
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My son’s birthday is June 11th 1994. My daughter’s is May 11th 2007 and I get what you mean about pre dawn duo. WHY can’t these kids sleep? I can’t wait until they are teenagers. I am going to go bounding into their rooms at 5:00 in the morning yelling, “I WANT TO WATCH CARTOONS ON THE COUCH!”.
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My father used to say:
“Running is like hitting yourself on the head with a hammer. It feels good when you stop”.
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Val: Yeah. Nice try.
Licha: Thanks for the empathy and well wishes. You hang in there yourself!
Jessica: Hmmm. I might have to consider the couch method.
mv Pat: Thanks for the compliment. Always glad to pick up a new reader.
Sandy: Wait, your son has the same birthday as mine, and your kids rise before dawn yelling “I WANT TO WATCH CARTOONS ON THE COUCH!”? How is it that we’re both living the same life?
E: Well said. Kudos to your father.
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That “before” pic was impressive…if you post an “after” it might inspire me to tackle my own office which is threatening to overwhelm me.
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reen: I promise to get you an “after” pic at some point in the near future … because making that promise will force me to finish prettying things up.
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