Friday, September 24, 2010

Back to our Regularly scheduled Program

Been a long two months.  I had one break in between a spell of being a single dad, packing my house up for moving, and being plum in the middle of the biggest financial merger in the history of the world.  Crazy times for my life of little water lately.

For all intensive purposes I'm pretty much single with little ones in tow.  Wife has been working a job out of town for six weeks.  Doing anything other than surviving consists of a thirty second shower I get if the kids don't wake up before the water gets hot enough to get in, dump soap on my head, and get out.

I'm praying that some time this week, my last week in Arizona, that I get one last chance to visit some old friends in a trickle up north of Phx and just south of the Rockies.   If so, I'm taking H with me.  Who knows though, my life at work is pretty rough at the moment. Getting to play hooky for the day may not happen.   I've got five teams right now, mostly here in Arizona, but one in India too, another group in California. Sorting through their struggles has been taking a lot of my time.

It's hard for me not to invest myself in people who work for me.  I care about them, even the ones I don't necessarily like.  Not sure if this is a sign I shouldn't be a manager or a sign that I should learn to be less emotionally involved?  Only time and my firing could tell.   For right now, I remind myself with a post-it-note stuck to the bottom of my inside desk drawer, "They're not my kids."  Not written in a bad sense, although sometimes I think it should be.  Written with the sediment that a conscious reminder of my employees aren't my blood relatives helps me make hard decisions in the face of harder choices.   Interesting how we rationalize as beings responsible for more than themselves.    This is cathartic, screw fishing blog, I should actually admit to my work struggles  publicly more often: feeling better already.

So I got to fish in July maybe August, I don't remember with my friend Chris again. Chris is good for my soul.  We laugh more than we do anything else. I need a reminder of how guys can be super-together, top of the career, and still laugh.  We got to fish a little river outside a town that shall be a town for the sake of  this drip of random lettering.   I promised a guy a while back who I don't really fish with anymore, I wouldn't write about this one.  Haven't  yet, outside my blog, but still feels like I shouldn't.  So anywho..  This river is the river to end all Brown Trout rivers in this part of the planet.  Chris and I spent a few days playing hopper-scotcher, wine drinking, hammock swinging, fish-t-farians there during the prime time.  It was fishTastic with a capital T.

Spent some time in Bristol Bay with my friend Bob.  Wow. Wow. Wow.  Will post and write more about all this.  For now signing off. Kids are finally snoring and I want to poor myself a stiff drink, maybe read a book on how to be a better manager, and hit the rack. Guaranteed, Addison, will be up at 5am asking for "Cheer-Os".   Better be ready.

Until later,  somebody fish for me, not sure it will happen any time soon.



Shoreman said...

I know that sometimes in life you feel like a one legged man in a butt kicking contest, but there is light at the end of the tunnel. My friend in Missouri once told me that if we knew how we would feel now, we would not have killed ourselves back then. I'll let you take it from there.


Alex Landeen said...

You will find a way to the water... it's instinct.

Stephanie & Dustin said...

Hang in there. You''ll be rewarded for all your hard work...hopefully soon. -stephanie