I’ve fallen hopelessly behind on my blog, which you might construe as a positive sign. Theoretically, it means I’ve been productive—so productive that I haven’t had time to stop and ruminate on my feelings. The reality, however, is slightly different. Consider:
October 7–9, 2011
I’m on the road, though not to a job interview. Since the kids don’t have school Monday because of Columbus Day, we’re visiting Cassie’s family in Cleveland.
We’ve made this 368-mile drive across the Indiana and Ohio turnpikes dozens of times, and I have it memorized. I know it will be snowing in La Porte, Ind., regardless of the season. I know we’ll pass the inexplicably massive RV Hall of Fame in Elkhart, Ind., and the parking lot will be empty. I know the fam will groan collectively when I threaten to stop at the Rutherford B. Hayes Presidential Center in Fremont, Ohio.
And last but certainly not least: I know that once I get within radio distance of Cleveland and spin the dial, I will soon hear a song by AC/DC or Led Zeppelin. And not on a classic rock station—John Bonham’s 134-minute drum solo in “Moby Dick” will be passed off as something hot-and-now. Therein lies the beauty of Cleveland. Except for semi-regular plant closings, nothing ever changes. Going to Cleveland is like slipping into your favorite black concert T-shirt from 1974: Yeah, it’s torn, faded and out of style, but it sure is comfortable.
Once there, we catch up with family. This is no small undertaking, literally: Cassie’s dad is one of 12 children. We’re shown wonderful Polish hospitality—i.e., loads of food—as we make the rounds. And through it all, I don’t see a single green vegetable.
Monday, October 10
We’re a person down on the ride home: Cassie flew to Florida this morning for a business conference, so it’s just me, the kids, and the open road. As Cole and Liv snooze, I think. This is a big week for me, and since today is Monday and I’m on the turnpike instead of at my dining room table, I’m already behind the eight ball.
On Tuesday, I’ll need to:
• Start fretting about my potential root canal on Thursday
• Start a couple new freelance projects. Since I want to make a good impression, I’ll have to be at the top of my game.
Tuesday, October 11
Tuesday comes, and there are issues, so many issues. With Cassie gone, I have to deal with everything myself. For example:
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| Our McDonald's Monopoly game pieces taking up real estate on my trusty dining room table. |
• Liv is a cantor at this morning’s school Mass, and she’ll be crushed if someone doesn’t show up and watch her. Thus, I set aside the freelance projects I’ve barely started and dash over to Liv’s school for her show-stopping performance.
• After school, I set aside my still-barely-started freelance projects and cart Liv and Cole all over town for their various activities. I don't recall ever being this busy and structured as a kid. Mostly, I hung out in my friend Bennett's third-floor bedroom and listened to Pink Floyd.
• At 8:30 p.m., it dawns on me that I never fed the kids dinner. I set aside my confounded freelance projects and trudge to McDonald’s, not so much for the food but for the Monopoly game pieces. Christ, all we need is a Boardwalk and our financial worries are over. But to our dismay, we don’t win the $1 million grand prize or anything else of note. Just two crappy orders of medium fries.
Wednesday, October 12
I finally build up a head of steam on my freelance projects and begin worrying in earnest about my potential root canal. Life is good.
By mid-afternoon, however, it all falls apart. When I pick Liv up at volleyball practice, I learn that she needs to make brownies for a school bake sale tomorrow. I don’t know anything about baking brownies, nor do I want to know anything about baking brownies. We go to Dominick’s and buy the ingredients, and then Liv gets busy baking. I eye her pensively from the fringes of the kitchen—much to my amazement, nothing blows up or even burns.
At 9 p.m., after failing to build up another ahead of steam on my freelance projects, I retrieve Cole from a school activity. We then go to the airport to pick up Cassie. When she slides into the car, I breathe a sigh of relief, but just a small one. I’m not home free yet: Tomorrow I must confront my destiny at the dentist.
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