Not Again Dammit!
Tuesday morning, before biking in to work, I checked the weather forecast. Was supposed to be nice early morning, horrible & thunderstormy mid morning & early afternoon, then clear out around the afternoon drive time. Sweet!
I got to work early enough to park my bike under the not-quite-big-enough awning in the front of our building. (If you get there late, you won’t be one of the 5 or so bikes that fit under the awning.) It poured here all morning & all afternoon. I absolutely HAD to be home & showered by 6pm. Had a hot date with my brother-in-law & his wife to go over one last form that he had to sign for settling Bob’s estate.
By 5pm, according to weather.com, the trailing edge of the rain was still 30 minutes west of my location. I couldn’t really wait any longer though. I went and changed and got psyched up for the paddle boat ride home.
Good lord, what a slow ride. The only good part about it was that it wasn’t actually raining. All there was to deal with was road spray & puddles. Unfortunately, because of the wetness, we really had to go slower. Can’t trust your tires to grip wet pavement if you bank too hard into a turn. Can’t trust your brakes to work if the pads and rims are dripping wet. Can’t trust cars to see you clearly in the road spray either.
So it was a long slow slog home. About half way home I stopped to take off a wind breaker. While it was pretty effective at keeping out the road spray, it was horrible at letting out heat & moisture I was generating internally. Now, I am afraid that when I opened my back pack to stuff my jacket inside I may have lost yet another thumb drive.
What’s the significance of that? I just lost nearly 2GB of information. Some of it is backed up, but the journal entries I had prepared for last night & today? Gone. Copies of my journal entries for the last 3 years? Gone. Information I had collected for Bob’s estate? Gone. Spreadsheets with account numbers, status updates, account values, attorneys commission calcs, tax calcs, MY commission figures? Gone. All gone.
I was sure I took the damn thing out of my pack when I got home last night, but I can’t find it at home anywhere. Not in the pants I wore to work, not in the shorts I wore at home, not on my dresser, in the back pack or on the kitchen counters. I’ll check with Cindy and see if maybe she picked it up and put it someplace I haven’t looked (I hope not in her USB port!) Need to check the locker room here at work, but I’m really afraid it may have slid out of my pack while on the bike path headed to the canal path near the corner of Lee Rd. & Trolley Blvd. I don’t remember seeing it when I picked up my pack, but I wasn’t tuned in to it then either.
So that’s my 500 word excuse for not having an entry up in the last day or two.
Oh. Got home at 5:55. Showered by 6:10. Stopped sweating by 6:30. Uuuuuugly humidity.
Had a lovely weekend. Got to golf with one of the boys on Fathers Day. Let him beat me on the front nine, then thrashed him terrible on the back. Even snuck in a birdie. Had to get ONE! I missed three other birdie putts – all shorter than the one I actually made, of course.
Missed my own dad for the 17th year running. Still weird, not taking him out for a round of and doing up some ribs for dinner after. I’ll just have to make sure my boys remember that’s what fathers day is for and we’ll all honor each other in the years to come.
Interesting developments on the relationship front too, but I’m too pooped (and busy at work) to go into any detail. For now, let it suffice to say that we are going to be accelerating the rate of change, but I’m not necessarily sure just which direction we’re pointed in. Cindy is clamoring for me to ease up on my internal drunk detector radar. I will work on it to the extent that she is less aware of me assessing her. I will also need to work on being more up front about declaring and defending any boundaries I set with respect to her (or anyone’s, my own included) current state of imbibement (new word).
All parts of my counseling team agree – I must keep making these incremental improvements in my own behavior and wait for Cindy to:
1.) wake the hell up and realize what’s she’s doing & risking or
2.) crash & burn again, which may well include her walking papers.
Quite the set of options, eh?