Last week off

I report back to work next Monday. I'm ready and I'm not as is the usual.

This summer has been full of work, work, and more work. I love my son and I wouldn't trade him in for another, but babies are a lot of workity-work. It's not always bad or overly draining work, but it limits what you can do. Almost every morning this summer I've been woken up to help Shane start his day, and then almost every night I've gone for a half-hour plus walk before easing him back down into his crib for sleep. In the middle I've been doing chores, watching Shane, working ESY, and tutoring. And you know what? Even when I'm bone tired and frustrated, I have a good feeling of accomplishment once I'm able to rest for a bit. It's taken a lot of adjustment, but I feel like my capacity to do work and take care of chores has grown exponentially over the past couple of years. I do wish I was better able to keep up with all of my old friends, but everyone is busy and when they're not, they live a different lifestyle at different times of night and day.

I know for certain that my life is not something the younger me would've envisioned. Of course, each year I look back and the prior me seems a little bit dumber to the present me who's had a little more time to figure things out. I suspect I'm being an idiot in some way even now as I type this! I know when I was younger, I used to dream more. I would envision being part of cataclysmic event or maybe doing something completely and utterly bonkers. Back then, I think I was drunk on the possibilities of what my life could become. Now, I'm busy living (and enjoying) it. It's an odd perspective change. Being an "old man" that is.

Anyway, I'm looking forward to getting back to work and feeling productive. Fatherhood has made me feel a little uneasy when I'm not doing some form of work to ensure my family is provided for. I need to keep bringing in the bacon.

As I was typing this, Ranger jumped up on my desk and starting mewing at me. He jumped in my lap and scaled my chest to nuzzle my beard. By some gravity defying mechanism I cannot begin to understand, the kitten managed to sit just below my neck so that he could bunk me and demand attention. My teeth clattered from his purring. Do you think the kitten has adopted me? Or maybe he's just trying to prevent me from typing and using the computer. He's sleeping in my lap now, but that's probably because I'm sitting in 'his' computer chair.