And a little over the edge.



Wet Wheels


It seems my truck does not like humidity, fog, and rain. I am still here in the office because, I can't leave. For some reason knowing only to the God Fordian, when it is humid at all, my truck will not start. As soon as the humidity drops below the acceptable level, it turns right over.

This is not the only issue Fordian has thrown at me... I also do not have brake lights. This makes driving much more interesting as I really do not want people slamming into the back of my pick-up and adding yet another dent or scratch to the pristine 1994 military-painted white exterior. So of course, I am a thinking man and thought out how exactly to make people think that it really is a stick shift vehicle and I am simply downshifting to slow to a stop.

How clever am I? I even bring my arm down from the back of the seat to LOOK like I am reaching for the stick. Seriously, I really think of this stuff. I brake in the typical downshift slow quickly but ease up on the roll matter.

I fully realize I need to fix the brake lights and I have even performed my expert troubleshooting procedures. I looked for open wires, changed light bulbs and determined without a doubt that it WASN'T the bench seat causing the problem. Honestly, I would take it to the shop if it weren't for the fact I am always working during the day in Virginia...and my truck won't start in the rain.

So...it looks like it will be a long night here at the office. Good thing I have a bag full of clean clothes.


Dysthymia and Cliff Notes


I am broken...but in the process of being fixed. I didn't realize how broken I was until it was to the point that my Queen pointed it out directly. For most of my life I have been fairly unemotional. This was basically my technique of toughening up. Shut off all emotion...all... happiness, sadness, everything.

Why? I think it may go all the way back to my birth. I am adopted. Given up by my birthmother. How does this affect my disposition? Well, it is the belief of many that adoptees become one of two type of people: Overachievers and Underachievers. I fall into the overachiever category. Basically they either have something to prove or give up on life. That was strike one.

I was adopted by a loving family. At 6 years old, my father committed suicide in the car in the garage. At 12 years old my older brother removed himself from existence by means of shotgun. Upon graduating high school, instead of going to college I joined the Air Force for 4 years. I had scholarships for music but determined that music was not a career...so I took 4 years to determine what I wanted to be. Instead, the Air Force gave me my career in information technology. I found and married my first wife in the Air Force and we founded 3 beautiful girls.

We had good time and bad times through the marriage up until the point she became sick. Since we now lost her income, I had to "skip the crick" to DC to get enough money to subsidize the loss of income. She went through surgery and they managed to remove it all. Later, she determined that I needed to start dating and she taught me how. A year later, a plastic bag ended her life. This was the spiral of the depressive funk.

The Queen managed to pull me out of the funk but I was not the same still. Another suicide. That is what kept running through my head. My life became motions...work, sleep, work, sleep. I felt as if I was not getting anywhere and I would never really be happy. After nearly losing my Queen, I went to see the shrink.

After the Celexa and hour long talks, the conclusion was Dysthymia. Things are much better and I have plans. The hopelessness has gone to the wayside and the new hope has emerged. I have finally come to realize that other people's actions does not mean that it is a lack of love for me...it is their issues.


A Little Catching Up


I realize it is winter and I normally will blog until my fingers bleed, but I have been busy working and flying and sleeping and flying and working... Needless to say I have racked up the frequent flyer miles. Hmm...I just said it. Too late! Doh.

Let's start with the bad news. I am not going to be a Grandpa any time soon. Squirrel girl is not right since it happened. I wish I could help her. I am would love to convince her to go back to school with Shae but I think I would have a better chance of getting the two of them to skydive in a cactus-filled desert.

I am trying to get into the holiday spirit. I am actually doing better than most years. We took Ave to the Breakfast with Santa thing and walked for cookies. That was actually a very good time and it started snowing while we were out there. It really doesn't get much better than that. We walked from store to store with our heads facing the sky and our tongues out catching snowflakes in our noses.

Money is a bit tight this year, but I think it is really more about the time spent together this year than the presents given. The boss (now bosses) here have still not come through completely with the promises of higher salary, and housing. In all fairness, they do fly me back and forth every weekend, but I was spending more time at home when I drove. They want me to get all of the initiatives completed this year, but have not stepped forward to take care of me. Top this with people knocking on my door with more money and I am having a real struggle substantiating my position here. I will hold on a little while longer, but if you promise me something, fulfill the promise.

Lastly, my reason for not blogging as much. I am enjoying life right now. I am spending time with the family. I am traveling. I am working. Maybe when things slow down, I can get back into it.


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