Sometimes I look at old posts to see what happened on this date in Rob’s personal history.
Jen and I are in the living room, baby talking to the cat (like ya do) and binging Schitt’s Creek.
I looked at posts from one year ago today and want to know what we were doing?
We were binging Schitt’s Creek.
So yeah, good show.
Every once in a while I need something like this. It’s a necessity.
I had a serious middle aged old fart moment today.
I was sitting at my desk, eating my lunch, and a thought popped into my head. I finished the laundry. All of the laundry in the house is washed, dried, and folded (though there’s some that still needs to be put away).
I thought to myself… all the laundry is done… that is awesome.
Then I thought, if my 16 year old self heard me say that the laundry being done is “awesome” he would probably kick me in the balls so hard that they’d end up a geosynchronous orbit.
Robert, you are such an old person. Old. Person.
I have to be careful not to let my 16 year old self know how happy I was after I made the bed this morning. Who knows what violence he would befall upon me.
No car music today. Maybe tomorrow. Definitely not Saturday. Maybe Sunday. I don’t know. I wanted to do it today but I stayed in bed too late. I had enough time to shave (will wonders never cease?) but not enough to go for a musical drive before work.
Remember the early days of the pandemic lock down? That was either 19 months ago or it was 123,513,641,278,582 years ago. I’m not sure. One of those two. March 2020. I made a working from home pledge to myself that I would continue to get out of bed at the same time I would need to wake up if I still had to drive to work. In March that was probably around 6:00am. Maybe 6:15 at the latest. I would usually try to get up before 6:00 though, just to have some morning routine wiggle room.
I stuck to that pledge for a very long time, but eventually 6:00 started turning into 6:30, then 6:45. Today it was 7:10 or so. One recent morning it was something like 7:50, I think. Jen, the love of my life, likes to be punched in to work by 8:00 so I don’t see myself staying in bed much longer than her. Working from home gives you the luxury of sleeping until 8:59, rolling out of bed, and punching in by 9:00. Fortunately I haven’t gotten that bad yet.
Our return to office plan us currently looking to January. We don’t know the details yet, but come New Year I will be back in the office at least some of the time. I need to get back onto a commuting sleep schedule by then if I can. I probably won’t, but it would make life easier. I’d also be able to get out for car music and maybe even sunrise-at-the-beach photos. Don’t hold your breath though.
Hey, remember when I used to post about writing shitty songs all the time? The Red Sox have totally distracted me from all of that.
I need to write at least one song this month and tonight in my baseball induced misery I wrote the melody and the lyrics for a new song. Aren’t you proud of me? Aren’t you sad that I’m posting about shitty music again? Yeah, sorry about that.
Car music in the morning?
When I sat down to write this literary masterpiece of a blog post I put the Bruins game on the radio. They were losing to Philly, 4-3 in the third. Almost immediately after I started listening, Philly scored to pad the lead to 5-3.
Sports wise, this is just not my night.
I stopped listening to the game in the sixth or seventh inning. I just couldn’t deal. I was so psyched yesterday morning and just crushed, sports fan-ily speaking, tonight. I still have a gamecast up on my computer even though I am not listening or watching anymore. Houston just scored twice in the top of the ninth to pad the lead to 9-1.
Oh, and the Bruins are down 2-1 after one period. Oh fer crying out loud.
One out in the bottom of the ninth.
The Bruins are now down 3-1.
Two outs in the bottom of the ninth.
Three outs in the bottom of the ninth.
Game over.
The Astros are up three games to two with game six in Houston on Friday.
Shit.
That sound you are hearing is all of Red Sox Nation catapulting themselves into the Charles river out of depression and anguish as the Astros score five runs in the top of the sixth.
6-0 Astros. I think. It may be more. I can’t hear the radio over the roar of everyone crying and throwing temper tantrums and just giving up on everything they hold dear in their lives.
The Red Sox are hitless through four. They are coming up in the bottom of the fifth now. Patches has a good feeling that this is the inning the bats wake up.
They are trailing 1-0 in a game they have to win.
Come on Red Sox.
Both teams went down in order in the first inning. The first Houston hitter in the second put it over the left field wall. That sound you hear is your humble narrator panicking. Sale got us out of the inning with a couple of strike outs and now the suddenly cold looking Boston offense is coming up.
Really need a win today. Really need a win.
So… am I posting too many cat pictures? I think I might be. Not that I’m going to stop or anything.
