Sorting Out Schedules

Dearest Rachel –

These days, I tend to think of my schedule as being reasonably flexible. Whenever someone wants to get together with me, at any given time, I can be there. There’s nothing cast in stone in my life that prevents me from any particular interaction. It’s not even so much that I can easily drop everything if something comes up; it’s more that I have nothing in particular to drop in the first place.

At least, that’s how I look at things, on a macro level. In reality, however, that’s something of a gross oversimplification; one that, when applied too often and too cavalierly, can get me into all sorts of trouble. I end up with conflicts between different people, or (rather to my chagrin) between others and the things I want to do. This isn’t necessarily a complaint, or an expression of ‘oh, woe is me;’ it’s a simple statement of a fact of life that’s common throughout most of humanity. It’s just an admission that, while the premise of this letter is more or less true (and thus rendering me more fortunate, in a very real sense than most of humanity), it’s surprisingly easy to forget that I’m still subject to amassing too many commitments in too little time, just like everyone else. This weekend, rolling into today, has been a series of illustrations of just that point.

In fairness, Saturday as a whole was relatively subdued on this front. Apart from my commitment to work the booth this weekend, there wasn’t that much where I had to be somewhere doing something (although in and of itself, it would have precluded me from taking someone out that I’d been chatting up on the dating app; not that there’s been anything like that going on to speak of). But afterwards, while I was hiding out upstairs in the office while the boys were watching anime in the family room, I got a text from Dad, asking if I would want to hang out tomorrow and watch football with him.

This struck me as an odd request. I’ve mentioned before that I basically gave up on sports when you and I got married. Of course, it is one of the things I particularly enjoy about the family getting together on Thanksgiving; with all of the menfolk watching the game, and commenting (knowledgeably, or at least reasonably so – I mean, I can hold my own, so we’re not talking Rhodes Scholar level discussions) upon the plays and strategies. But still, it’s makes watching the game fun, when you can do that, even if you have no dog in the fight.

Which is another curious thing about his request. The Bears’ season ended last week – well, in fairness, it was essentially over by the middle of September, but they were still playing games until the end of the regular season last week, at which point I’d long since stopped even so much as paying attention to the standings. When you’re behind even Detroit by several games, it’s time to give up and claim you’re just tanking to get a first-round draft pick during the off-season, just to save face. With that being said, this was when old sports-watching me would ignore the rest of the league; so why would Dad ask me to join him for something like this?

Given the mild paranoia I already have about odd-numbered years these days, there are also other conclusions I might draw from his request. He and Mom have dropped certain hints recently that suggest they’re more than starting to sense the limitations of their age (in terms of both ability and time itself), and this might be a request to spend time together while that time still exists. It’s not about the game, or who’s playing (and indeed, when I asked him about the latter, he gave me a grin that was mildly sheepish and admitted he didn’t rightly know); it’s just the being together he was after.

But at the same time, Kevin and the girls hadn’t gotten together with me to game online since before Thanksgiving, and the stars aligned yesterday such that we could. I had to turn Dad down, not entirely to my regret (as I enjoy hanging out with them, and have missed it over the last month and a half), but there’s this nagging concern all the same that leaves me wondering where this came from in the first place, and if I wasn’t missing the opportunity of a lifetime.

Still, there’s always the Super Bowl; that might be excuse enough to pass on the online gaming. Erin was saying something about watching the Puppy Bowl (which I think Animal Planet airs during The Game for those who refuse to watch said Game), so maybe I could free her up for that, and the others would be understanding, to say the least. And there are our usual Thursdays, although I’ve resolved something about those that I’ll tell you about then.

***

I’d like to believe Dad was understanding about my decision – after all, he’s well aware of our Sunday afternoon habit, sporadic though it may be – but that left me at liberty regarding Sunday dinner, or what passes for it these days. Since the family as a whole rarely goes out together (and Jen and the kids were at the early service, thus precluding a situation where we might), and Daniel and I came to church in separate cars yesterday (well, it’s not like the old days, where we’d drag him there before eight, and he’d hang out in the upstairs balcony while you worked in the nursery while I was in the booth; he’s driving your car, and can show up at his own time), we were quite literally on our own for lunch. I drove out to pick up something light (which turned out to be otherwise; come on, no one expects fast food to be healthy), and started eating and soon as I got home – no sense letting things get cold. I could hang out with Daniel and watch stuff with him while he ate, whenever he made it home.

What I didn’t expect was to actually finish lunch before he got home, leaving me wondering what had happened to him. I went up to the office to get things set up for the gaming session in a couple hours (and maybe fill you in about the situation – so that’s only been a little delayed), and noticed him just pulling into the driveway. Well, okay then. He’d gotten involved in cleaning up the sanctuary, like the two of you used to do (you’d be proud of him and his commitment to keeping up the practice, even if there are others who’ve taken up the mantle), and left church considerably later than I had. He’d also wandered somewhat aimlessly about the shopping district across the street before settling on a place that’s been open maybe for the last month or so and would be the last place I’d expect him, as their stock in trade appears to be bowls of raw fish and vegetables (or poké, as they call it). But since they have a chicken option, he went with that (oh, but I should point out, they cook the chicken, thankfully), and it looks like the two of us will be going back there fairly soon.

***

On the subject of restaurants, that finally got sorted out as well. Ever since Daniel and I had been there last year, I’d been meaning to introduce the girls to the Japanese place with the robot servers, and while the holidays seemed the appropriate time to splash out on that (and, as I pointed out to Erin, I have a gift card or two that needs burning up, so she shouldn’t fret about paying – not that she won’t), it just never seemed to work out. So, as we were wrapping up our session last night (and I continued to scroll through checkpoint files for my AI art generator), we decided to determine when this week would be best for this sort of thing. It looks like we’ll finally get to it this Friday, although it may a little later in the evening than I’m used to eating anymore. Still, this is an indulgence I’m not about to pass up.

***

And, now that I’ve mentioned the AI program – and I admit, I’m really wanting to get on with it, given how much there actually is that I’ve discovered so far – I should mention that I’m left still having to put it on hold, at least for the next couple of days. I’d already arranged with Kris to clean the place on Tuesday (and I plan to make an appointment with the bank for Daniel’s checking account that afternoon; he has received a bill that I want him to be paying, and he needs checks and confirmation of his balance and activity thus far), but Lars called last night, and between his schedule and the weather, today is going to be the best day this week for us to walk.

There’s a selfish little part of me that, at that moment, wanted to turn him down. I can’t explain just how eager I am to actually get to work on the myriad of possibilities involved in this setup. But the fact of the matter is, this can wait a few more days for me to get into it. And while actually saying that ‘oh, I’ve got all the time in the world to work on this,’ leaves me feeling like I need to look over my shoulder, the fact of the matter remains that this isn’t an urgent matter. This is just something I want to do; if it never gets done for reasons like what happened to you, no one will miss it (not even me, since I’ll be where I can look for the real you). By contrast, Lars is only available at certain times during the week (to say nothing of more clement weather); people come before projects.

Frankly, at this point, I wish I had been of that mind a couple years ago.

Anyway, such has been the weekend, and such are the upcoming days. Keep an eye on me, honey, and wish me luck (and maybe a little patience). I’m going to need it.