mandatory

"Growing old is mandatory.
Growing up is optional."
[old expression]

I awoke at 430am this morning, tossing and turning and unable to easily get back to sleep.  Partly, but minimally, it was because Liza-Ann still snores when she has some sort of bronchial infection, which she does right now, but largely it was because I'd only properly medicated one of my four chronic medical problems and two of the remaining three were acting up.  I'm not looking for sympathy.  Rather, it just struck me that as I began recently preparing myself mentally, knowing that my "day of self-reflection slash yearly evaluation" would require me to write about what's changed in the past year, what I felt at the wee hours nicely summized my answer.  Put into words:

"I'm aging."

That's not all bad.  In fact there's a lot of good to it.  Mentally and emotionally I feel I've matured again.  I'm pleased with that.  But the physicality of it is rather unfortunate.  I'm only 37 and I find myself facing the reality that I may have recently acquired what will be yet another life-long issue.  These ailments aren't anything serious.  They're trivial compared to the plight of many.  They're inconveniences more than anything, and I'm glad for that.  But it's 730am and I'm up out of bed, earlier than I would have liked - especially considering I awoke from a really fascinating dream I'd have loved to get back to - because I have to take some pills for my foot before the pain advances from "frustrating" to "mind-numbing".  Knowing the pills couldn't possibly kick in fast enough to allow me to actually drift back to sleep, I chose instead to get up and face the day even if it means feeling tired for some or all of it.  If I find myself truly exhausted later, I can always nap.  I've been dieting for weeks now, in the hope of improving the situation, and while I'm losing weight and feeling a bit better, there are sacrifices being made.  No longer can I afford to eat what I want when I want, and that's all a part of getting older.

I took the day off; that's hardly a surprise.

Work has been crazy busy lately, and I wondered on Friday if Colin, who had no doubt completely forgotten I'd be off today (I booked it long ago), would try to rescind my vacation in light of our current tight schedule, which would lead to an unfortunate confrontation.  He did not.  This was good.

The new job is working out mostly well.  There are a few things about it I don't like, but I'm still pretty determined to rise to the challenges and overcome them in time.  While I do feel a bit split on the issue, whenever people ask how the new job is going, I always tell them it's going well, blah blah blah, because I'd have a hard time vocalizing those few doubts, and because if I did it would make them seem more important than they really are, or at least more important that they should be.  I need to shed another layer, mentally, on the road to enlightenment and to finding more contentment in my work.  My personal life already brings me much contentment, but to find true happiness in my professional life will require me to conquer my own ego.  If you watch the movie Revolver until it makes sense, you'll understand, though it may well drive you mad long before that.

In the cross-over of personal and professional lives, my departure from Everquest last spring combined with my change in employment in November/December represent a certain ethereal shift for me that has left me a little restless lately.  I think I've become so accustomed to being in a position of leadership somewhere - real or virtual world - that it leaves me feeling vaguely unfulfilled when I'm not.  Despite retaining the same job title when switching companies, I'm very much taking more direction and giving far less these days.  I've still tried to be a bit of the "informal social director" amongst friends, getting people together for cards or video games or board games, but I'm at an age where people's ever-shifting priorities makes scheduling very difficult.  It seems that to get 7 people for a night of poker I'd have to invite about 13 and then just hope they don't all actually show up or I'm out of table space and I'm screwed.  It can be very frustrating, and reminds me of people I miss who live away.  People who are either closer or who in the least share more of the same interests or attitudes.  Liza-Ann and I recently began to socialize with Randy and Soon-Wah (I hope I'm spelling that right) whose daughter Alice is just a little older than Olivia, and the girls seem to play well together so I'm hoping we'll continue to explore those relationships.  I still have much difficulty at times understanding Soon-Wah, but I hope with more time and exposure it will come easier, because she certainly seems like a very nice person, and I'm sure she finds it much more frustrating than we do.

My relationship with Olivia has also moved forward somewhat.  We're getting along better than ever, though her incessant requests to play Barbies with her are sometimes taxing.  Overall, she's delightful, but it seems I've done too good a job at playing Ken (aka Ken Billy Bob Gordon Thorton) and now it's become a daily request.  Mostly I think she's happy to have an activity to share with me.  I'm glad for that too, but hope to also find ones that are more entertaining to me as well as her.  I bought a Wii game yesterday designed for 4-8 year olds in such hopes, as well as recently signing up to help Alpha test a new children's online games service aimed at preschoolers.  She also went through a period where she was intentionally referring to me as "Dad" instead of "Pat" or "Step-Dad", while trying to gauge my reaction.  It was as if she was trying it on for size.  Sometimes I think she'd prefer the simplicity of one home and one set of parents, and she's probably still too young to understand the difference between John's relationship with her and mine.  Once night while playing Barbies this gave me a devilish thought that almost made me laugh out loud:

It's important to understand I bear John no ill will.  He seems really good with Olivia and I'm glad he has chosen to remain a part of her life.  He and I have no real relationship, with the most we usually talk being a sentence or two on the phone when he calls.  I don't dislike the man.  But at the same time, I know the interactions that each of us has with Olivia sets certain expectations of the other, giving us this unique indirect relationship.  And so I strongly suspect the next time she's in Corner Brook she'll not only be insisting he play Barbies with her, but will likely be insisting he play Ken "like Pat does" and "using the Billy Bob voice".  I hope John's Karl Childers impersonation is up to snuff.

My relationship with my own father is about the same.  I don't visit him as often as I probably should, and we never have anything to talk about when I do.  I give him the latest news, and that's it.  We sit in silence for a while until my brain can't take the boredom and I leave once again.  He barely says or does anything these days, which makes me wonder if he's simply waiting patiently to die.  Being that age can't be easy, especially when you've outlived your siblings and most of your friends.  I may go and see him tonight; I'm undecided.  I'm curious as to whether he remembers but I doubt he does, given his mental state.  I wonder sometimes if Betty even crosses his mind much, but I expect she does.  And this may seem morbid but, when the day comes that Dad does finally pass on, I already know the quote I'll used on the page that I no doubt write.  Which reminds me, I've been meaning to revise "For My Archer".  I thought for a while about "the integrity of the original work, blah blah blah" but it's irrelevant.  The truth is something that changes with time, so there's no reason the essay can't.

As for my home life, there's not much to say.  I love Liza-Ann and we continue to make plans for the future.  More and more I'm enjoying all the renovations to this house while at the same time talking about the next one.  I've finally finished paying off my two student loans, so I'm hoping this will lead me to enough financial freedom to commit more to updating our current humble abode.

I glanced back over last year's entry.  I did indeed make origami roses for Mother's day, but not just a dozen for LA's mom, but three vases, one for Winnie and one for each of my sisters, each vase with about two dozen roses.  I plan to make more this year.  I've already started.  This time I have some new patterns for the sepals and stem, rather than the makeshift one I was using and the pipe-cleaners.  It all interlocks nicely.  I'm not quite adept at it yet, but I've managed to assemble a few and I'll get better with practice.

I've been thinking of writing something substantial, but I've not started and don't know with certainty that I will.  I've certainly not committed myself to the idea yet.

Well, for those of you who still tune in from time to time, there you have it.  That's this year's update.  Overall it was pretty good, and I look forward to the future.
Even if it means getting even older.