Yet Another Mental Health Day

7:15 AM: Dad wakes me for work, either forgetting that I told him I was taking Monday off after a busy weekend, or not having heard me tell him in the first place.

9:30 AM: The chirping of birds outside my window is unbearably loud, but there are worse alarm clocks.

10:05 AM: Finally saunter out of my room after checking e-mails, posting comments, playing games, and other daily web rituals. Pour a bowl of Corn Chex and ask my mom where my dad is going with the car. It seems he's off to give my aunt a ride to the hospital for some tests, then planning to visit some friends at a local garage to make an appointment to get my mom's car inspected. I don't know what impresses me more, the fact that he's back to his normal routine, or that he's taking a family member to the very hospital he himself was a patient at less than 8 weeks ago.

11:06 AM: After breakfast and more web surfing, which includes the unforgivable act of giving in to curiosity and checking my work e-mail on my day off, I head out mail some things at the post office, and fill up my car's tank at the gas station. An accident blocks one lane of traffic and extends the time quick local errands normally would take.

12:22 PM: After more time wasted online, including another visit to my work account, I resist the urge to take a nap and instead shave my head. It's been a few months since I last sported Lincoln Burrows length hair, but it's definitely going to keep me cool this Summer, and keep sweat out of my eyes on the treadmill.

12:58 PM: My dad is back from his errands and pressing my mom to go shopping with him; she feigns a few mock sobs at the sight of my buzzed scalp. She hates when I do that.

1:03 PM: As I struggle with some stubborn rakes to free the lawnmower from out shed, my dad asks if I can spare “ten minutes” to help him with something on my mom's car. I'm a little short-tempered, knowing what “ten minutes” can turn into when working on a vehicle, and wanting to get to a beach or a park while the weather is still beautiful.

1:18 PM: For once, my dad's estimate was correct, since all he wanted me to do was jack up the car and remove two tires so he could look at my mom's brakes. Satisfied that they were still in good shape and would pass inspection, he had me put the wheels back on, and I was free to resume my original tasks.

2:00 PM: The lawnmower definitely has been running too fast of late, and I've yet to get through one session without having to refill the gas tank before I'm done. I'm sneezing and coughing from all the clippings and dust I inevitably inhale, and looking forward to a shower to get rid of the accumulation of hair, grease, and grass I've built up.

2:45 PM: I can't believe how late it is. I've got a load of laundry running, and clouds are turning a good day to take pictures into a better day to see a movie. In looking for movie times, I get sidetracked again with my work e-mail, and realize I seriously need to get away from the computer.

3:35 PM: In checking some maps online, I've discovered a hidden park I've never visited, conveniently nestled in some back roads on the way to the movie theater. I should have time to take some pictures, and still catch the 4:40 Shrek Forever After.

4:11 PM: Back roads are tricky, and somehow I miss the park entrance entirely. It's a quest for another day, as I find myself at the theater with a row all to myself, room to put my feet up, and a tasty platter of nachos and cheese. It will either be the salt content, the grass clippings, the 3D movie, or a combination of those elements that I later blame a headache on.

6:40 PM: The movie wasn't bad, with some good laughs and a few tears, and a nice conclusion to the saga(if I believe they aren't making more of these). 3D definitely works best with computer animated films, and this was no exception.

6:43 PM: Geese! And goslings! Of course, the goslings are almost fully grown, and closer to teens than babies. I missed the fuzzy yellow baby stage this year, but these were still fuzzy and cute, even if they were larger and starting to take on the darker hues of their parents. At least I didn't bring my camera with me in vain.

7:30 PM: It's the earliest I've eaten dinner in years, which should make my dad happy. After dinner I hang the laundry I washed earlier in the day, and then check my work e-mail for what I hope will be the last time. Doing so tends to defeat the purpose of a mental health day.

8:40 PM: I start watching the third Mummy movie. Five minutes in, I didn't see anything wrong with it, other than a stylistic departure from its predecessors. Fifteen minutes in, I started seeing real problems. I won't finish the movie on the same night I begin watching it, and I'll save a more detailed review for my next WWW.

9:00 PM: The Good Guys. It's now the second episode I've seen, but the first with audio on its regular day and time(I watched the premiere on a Wednesday with closed captioning while on a treadmill). I'm still not sure, but I think I like this show about misfit detectives who often stumble upon larger crimes while investigating petty ones. Colin Hanks has become an absolute clone of his father at that age, and may his career and skills grow equally in the coming years. Bradley Whitford is sometimes a little too over-the-top as his partner, and some sequences like one in which he throws a tantrum and yells at a laptop because he can't work a “computer machine” are a little too much. I think the show also overuses the short-term flashback device(“XX minutes earlier”) even if it is intentional for laughs, but I can't be too critical of a Summer series that will probably be canceled in a few months. I'm along for the ride, and will enjoy it without getting too attached.

10:00 PM: Persons Unknown. I consider it “Actors Unknown” until Alan Ruck shows up. A small group of strangers wake up in a hotel in a deserted town, with no memory of how they got there. Each was abducted, and each has a reason to get home, be it a daughter, wife, or something else left behind. Not every person is forthcoming with information, and they all suspect one another. Meanwhile, a camera records everything for some unseen audience. Is this some new reality show? A knockoff of The Prisoner? Does nature abhor the vacuum left by LOST? This show doesn't have the characters that those shows did, at least not yet, but it is an intriguing premise and has potential. It's also a Summer series, so again I'm along for as long as it lasts. They probably should just plan these types of shows as short term-miniseries, to have the mysteries resolved within one season.

11:00 PM: I come up with the clever idea of writing about my “Mental Health Day”, and then discover I've used that title before. A new tag is born since this is now the third variation of that idea, and I begin breaking down my day.

12:13 AM: It's officially Tuesday. My Mental Health Day is over. I didn't get to do everything I wanted to do. I didn't finish watching that Mummy movie. I did spend over an hour writing a blog post, which kept me from getting bored and checking my work e-mail again. In less than 7 hours I will be awake again. In less than 9, I'll be back at my desk as though I never left, and as though the weekend never existed. In four days, there will be another weekend, another lawn, another band gig. Every day along the way there will be a blog post. And so, the cycle continues....

Another Mental Health Day

Maybe it was because I had a gig on Sunday and could use an extra day to rest. Maybe two busy weeks at work and a cold had taken their toll and I wanted to catch my breath. Perhaps it was the realization that it's October and I need to use nine more vacation days before the end of the year, or four at the very least since I can carry five over until March of the following year according to company policy. Honestly a combination of all that and more, Monday proved to be a nice mental health day for me.

Of course, my subconscious isn't always on the same page as the rest of my brain. My day off started at the office, as I met with marketing to finalize an ad that had fallen under particular scrutiny. We came to an agreement, and I felt good as I walked back to my office on the other side of the building with clear direction and a definitive action plan. At this point I woke up.

After a quick trip to the post office and some breakfast, I settled in front of my computer to get stuff done. The plan was to tackle the always gargantuan task of summing up a year's worth of posts for the latest Cloakfest. I have two parades next weekend and there's no way I can write all that in one night. On the “Wasting-My-Life-Playing-Games” front I made significant progress in Gemcraft, and should beat that soon, which will free up a lot more time for important stuff. A few rounds of that distraction later, I actually concentrated on my original plan and made it through the first three months of summaries, leaving only nine to go through in the next six days.

The clouds of the morning gave way to some sun, but before I could take pictures I had a neglected lawn waiting for me. Parades, feasts, and inclement weather kept me away from the lawnmower for at least three weeks, and if I'm being honest there were also a few spider webs I chose not to disturb. But now the webs are all but gone, and leaves are beginning to fall. It was weird actually feeling cold while pushing the lawnmower. We'll be cleaning off the radiators and turning on the heat fairly soon, I think. When I find myself dressing in layers for bed, I know it's time.

Finally, I was on the road with my camera, and enjoyed a pleasant walk on a beach and a pier. Tune in tomorrow as always for photographs. Friday is my parents' anniversary, so a department store was my next stop. When I got home, I planned to go through more of my archives, but somehow ended up playing Gemcraft until the ridiculous offering of shows that is Monday evening began. Then I just collapsed in front of the television for nearly four hours. Oh Sarah Connor, your “limited commercial interruption” proved to be both a blessing and a curse.

So, it was both a productive day and a relaxing day. I probably could have used a little more productivity at some times, and more relaxing at others, but in either case I accomplished things I couldn't sitting in my office, and I feel recharged and ready to tackle Tuesday. I'll do this a few more times before the year is over. Sometimes, a body just has to stop to see how far it can go.

Mental Health Day

Stress has a way of building up quietly over time. Small problems become large ones. An ache or pain that we might otherwise dismiss can become something we obsess over. What is that “tugging” feeling inside my back sometimes? Is that a tumor? Instead of a rational conclusion, like maybe I've been leaning forward on a new oak desk for practically six straight months, I might veer away from simpler explanations.

As I learned with my last job, I found it very beneficial to take a day or two for myself each month. The company had a “use ‘em or lose ‘em” policy for vacation days, as does my new job. I'd taken on so much responsibility after seven years, that I'd have to work considerably late in the days leading up to a vacation. It was always worth it for a three day weekend though, and a walk on a beach or through some trails in the woods, one extra day to myself out of the office, did a good job of keeping me level and sane.

It's taken a few months, but I'm finally getting the rhythm of the new place. I can predict when I'll have busy weeks, and when things will quiet down for a few days before picking up again. I can finally gauge within a week or more if there's a day on which I won't be missed. People actually do cover for each other when we go on vacation, but as the new guy, I haven't felt comfortable taking advantage of that policy just yet. I took a few days around the holidays, but I had four left from my few months in 2007 that I carried over to this year.

Suddenly, it's March, and I realize how fast time goes. I saw an opportunity a few weeks ago in my schedule, and put in for this Friday. It had been a while since I had a three day weekend to myself that wasn't a holiday or a snow day. Of course, a week ago a car accident took my car off the road until I could get the bumper repaired. I've been using my dad's car, and I wasn't going to take advantage. Four days for work would be enough driving. The fifth day would be a day of relaxation, of not worrying about deadlines or worrying if there was something wrong with me. I'd sleep late, and if I did venture out I'd probably find a local beach and listen to the waves.

So of course, at 9 AM, the phone rang. My dad called in to tell me it's the owner of the car that hit me. I reached over for my cell phone to check the time, my dad informed me that the call was on our land line. Before I could explain, I heard him telling this guy, “he'll be right with you; he thought you were on his cell phone.” As the old man chuckled, I knew it was going to be one of those days.

The guy did get my fax with the estimate, but hadn't called the body shop yet. Instead, he looked up the value of my car and pointed out that it wouldn't make sense to spend more than its worth to fix it. He wasn't telling me anything I didn't already know, but then that was irrelevant. New car or not, his babysitter slammed his car into my property, and I wanted it fixed. He assured me that he'd still pay to have the car fixed if I didn't want money instead, and I told him yes, I did want my vehicle back on the road. His only other recourse was to suggest that, if my body shop didn't give him a price he liked, that I might consider his body shop. At this point, I just want it fixed so I have my own car to drive to work, and to dealerships on weekends as I begin the process of looking for another vehicle.

So, with my wishes in mind, he was off to call my body shop. This would be the last I'd hear from him that day, but my mind soon focused on other concerns. Plastic covered the kitchen sink, in front of which was a ladder. A cardboard box sat on the counter, surrounded by dust and sheetrock. My dad put it there to catch debris, and it did catch some, but a little box isn't enough to cover a three foot area. You see, a few weeks ago one of the light fixtures in our kitchen died. After trying in vain to pull the old one free, my dad finally just cut a big square in the ceiling to take it out. Calling an electrician would have been an admission of defeat.

My dad's been very helpful to me lately. Honestly, he's been helpful for 33 years. In the past week though, he's not only given up his car, but he took mine to a body shop for me and got my estimate. I'd promised to help him and return the favor, especially since the last time he started working on this particular project and had my mom on a ladder, she ended up in the hospital with heart palpitations. I know nothing about electricity but, as with automobile repair, I've found I can do the work as long as my dad is there to talk me through it. He is a little “braver” about leaving the power on though, and since I'm scared of shocks, I did have to implore him to turn the power off before we started working.

Installing the fixture was no easy task. My dad asked me to read the instructions, then cut me off in the middle of reading as he was thinking aloud. He can be a little impatient. Eventually, I discerned how the brackets fit between the beams, and that the metal was designed to snap off and adjust as needed. With the little square he'd cut though, we couldn't screw the fixture in place first or he'd have no room to attach the wires. The wires had to be attached first.

Soon, my dad was standing on a sheet of plastic on our kitchen counter, while I stood next to him on an old wobbly ladder. I like heights as much as electricity. After a few instances of plaster falling into my eyes, I resorted to wearing goggles. My dad never does, but then he does wear glasses. While I supported the fixture, he attached the wires. Meanwhile, morning was giving way to afternoon and, when the phone finally rang, I knew it was either the body shop or the owner of the other vehicle.

“Hello?” said my mom, blinking a few times as she listened to whomever was on the other end. “Oh....go to Hell!” she said, then hung up. “WHAAAAAT??” I screamed, nearly falling off the ladder and wondering why she was smiling. As it turned out, it wasn't for me. It had been some recorded message selling insurance or something, typical annoying telemarketing.

My dad had finally secured the wires, and it was time for me to screw in the fixture. He was ready to jump down since I was in the way on the ladder, but I instead told my mom where the power screwdriver was. The beams were tough, but I managed to put in enough screws to hold the metal in place. Next came the hard part.

My dad had cut a piece of sheetrock roughly the size of the opening and, after filing the edges, we had gotten it to fit before we put in the fixture. Calculating where to cut a hole in it for the light was trickier. I preferred to use a tape measure while he used a yard stick, at an angle, and said it was “close enough”. My mom had the best idea, and gave me a piece of blue chalk to rub around the edge of the metal. Then I pressed the square against it, and when I lowered it we had a round marking.

As a guide, we used the outer plastic cover of the new fixture to draw a better circle around our rough chalk lines. Even so, the opening was too small and took some filing to get right. The piece also cracked in one corner and had to be glued. While we waited an hour or so for that to dry, I had some time to finally relax and start watching some movies. But soon, I was back on the ladder, drilling holes and securing the sheetrock. By 6 PM, we were done for the day:




My dad sounded worse as the day went on, and finally told us he had a bad cold. I don't think breathing in dust helped, nor did the fact that he stopped to make a sandwich halfway through, eating with dusty hands in a dusty kitchen. “You know how much dirt I've eaten in my life?” is his favorite scoffing expression when I suggest he wash his hands first in such scenarios. So when I finally did get out of the house on my vacation day, it was to drive my mom to the supermarket while my dad finally settled in to a chair for a much needed nap.

The ceiling obviously still needs to be spackled, to cover those edges, and then it will need to be painted. In the meantime, we finally have a working light over the sink again and the bulk of the project is behind us. It might not have been the day I had in mind a week ago, but it was a productive day, and frees up my weekend. I still have to figure out which body shop will fix my car, so the weekend isn't entirely free. I think it's time to start looking at my calendar again, to plan my next mental health day.