Apocalypse Eve

I'm spending New Year's Eve at my sister's house, where I'm told some sort of yearly tradition of revelry shall take place. They tried to explain something that sounded a bit apocalyptic. I guess they spend the night watching the end of civilization on television. Like anyone preparing for the end of the world as we know it, they spend the evening drinking heavily and trying to feign a good time.

A few seconds before midnight, they watch this monstrous ball come tumbling down from a skyscraper. They're so certain it will land and kill all the people that they start counting it down. When they get to zero and the ball stops, they're all so happy that they start singing and kissing each other. It's really pretty amazing people do it every year.

Remember me?

It's been a while since I've updated this blog. For that I have many regrets, since I've had a lot going on in my mind lately.

It's not even that I haven't had time to do it. I'm just lazy.

So here's the quick update. If you're looking for the regular cynicism that's followed me for years, you ought to look elsewhere. This is pretty upbeat stuff.

* I love my new job. I'm not going to say every minute of every day is full of ecstasy and joy. But for the most part, I don't mind what I'm writing about. I'm enjoying meeting all the new people on my beat (everything that happens in Putnam County, Ohio). And I like writing more than designing or editing.

* I love my new hours. Sure, I have to work a night or two a week. Big whoop. I used to work 70 or 80 hours a week at the old job. I'm sticking pretty solidly with the 40 hours a week (or 32 for these holiday weeks), and I'm getting everything done. I'm happy with that.

* I love my new apartment. Silly as it sounds, the best thing here is the electric heat with separate thermostats in each room. I'm a notorious cheap-skate. I'm able to keep the rooms I use all the time, such as the bedroom and living room, nice and toasty. Then I was able to turn my extra bedroom into something of an office/workout room, which I keep cold except when I'm using the room. It's a miser's dream come true.

* I had a great Christmas. For most of the day, I came out of my shell a little bit. I reverted somewhat later in the day when the number of kids and number of adults was at its peak, as I'm overwhelmed by large groups that I can't talk over. But I think we got through a second holiday without any major feelings hurt and without pushing anyone to tears. That's a good thing. Presents-wise... well, I'm too old to do this for the presents. But the little bit I got was nice.

* Hobbies. With the glut of free time as a result of not working so darned much, I have more free time. Now I just have to figure out what to do with it. I'm considering taking up a musical instrument. I'm leaning toward the guitar or piano, since my musical leanings (blues, rock and country) could all use those.

That should do it for now. I'll probe deeper into my head soon. I've been spending a lot of time thinking about why I'm so stubborn on some things. That should be a fun one for the whole family...

Done packing

It's like deja vous all over again. I'm done packing, sitting here on the couch with my last possession that isn't in a box or bag, my laptop.

I'm looking at all the stuff in the handy Sterilite totes. They're all stacked neatly in a row, biggest ones on the bottom and lightest on the top.

Two things come to mind which are completely contradictory: 1. I have too much stuff. 2. I don't have much stuff.

Over the course of the week I've been packing things up. I held off the "essentials" until today, which mostly meant cookware, the radio, that sort of thing. The laptop packs up so easily, I'm not so concerned about that.

So that leaves me thinking that I must not really need that other stuff. (OK, the clothes that I packed on Monday and delivered to the new place Wednesday are necessary. I'll give you that no one wants to see me walking around without those.)

So much of the other stuff just seems like clutter, though. I'll have to decide if "sentimental" items really need to follow me or if my memories are good enough.

On the other hand, I'm looking at everything in these boxes and thinking how little it really is. The entire area they're using can't be more than 8x8 and perhaps five feet high (excluding bigger pieces of furniture). That really isn't all that much accumulated over a 29-year lifespan, is it?

So I feel good and bad. I consider myself something of a minimalist, where I don't need a whole lot of things to be happy. (Just an Internet connection and a laptop, and I'll be mostly happy.) So I'm glad I don't have more than that, but I also wonder if I could do with less.

I suppose there's something about the holidays that just makes me feel guilty about what I have, so I have to reason out whether I deserve it or should have it.

I'm sure I'll ponder this more tomorrow night, as I begin the pain-in-the-neck process of unpacking, which is worse in my opinion.

Red was here too

Tonight marked my last shift at the Delaware Gazette.

As my friend Jeremy and I left the office tonight, he asked if I left any messages from beyond for people. He asked if I etched "Red was here too" in any of the woodwork.

Truth be told, no. I'm not sure I've ever worked someplace where I've left less of a mark. Much of it was the brief five-month stint here. Part of it was the circumstances surrounding the place. Primarily it was the fact I gave up two months ago at making this place any better, as I didn't -- and don't -- honestly believe it wants to be any better than it is.

In some ways, the "Shawshank Redemption" reference my friend made seems ideal. It's almost like the end to a sentence for a crime I willingly committed.

A number of people asked if I'll miss the place. No. Not even remotely. It was the most miserable working experience I've ever had in my life. The 70-hour weeks wore me down. The ever-devolving focus on good journalism depressed me. I've never questioned if I wanted to stay in journalism as much as I have here. And I really won't miss how cold my office was when I came in at 6 a.m. and a wind current developed between the two windows there.

Will I miss the people? Sure, some of them, but I can socialize with them still. But overall, I'm much happier knowing I don't work there anymore.

Red might've been there, but no one will remember him. It's probably better that way.