The Life of Pink

It's a good thing that this is
St Patrick's Day, because I am now being driven to drink.
I've been on the phone with a couple of dingleberries who don't really know what the hell they're really doing, nor do they really want to listen to about half of what I am trying to say to them. Not to mention the fact that they're using a GD'd speakerphone which will either pick up their random conversation not meant for me really, or it won't really pick up what they want to say to me. Good thing I put a bottle of Sam Adams' Double Bock in the fridge before I left for work. I mean, goddamit. I don't know if they're talking to themselves or to me most of the time, and I have to repeat things at least twice. Gyah! Not to mention that they're fucking things up on their own... I mean big time.
One hour thirty-two minutes. And they'll most likely be calling back.
*headdesk*

You know, there are times when I still have to physically stop what I'm doing, and realise one fact in particular: I'm going to be a father. That still raises the "Holy Shit" factor in my life. My biggest fear? Being a good dad. That's my biggest worry. It's not because I had a bad dad myself, far from the truth. Both of my parents were good parents, even if I was a bit of a handful in my earlier years. Same with C's parents. They were good parents, they have nothing for which they should be ashamed or blame themselves. All parents really do is push their kiddo in what they think is a right direction. But then again, freewill does tend to take over in some fashion or other. I'm not going to be the domineering parent, nor am I just going to be in the shadows, merely watching my kid. I'm going to be involved, I'm going to teach him. I want to be able to be proud when I say, "Yep, that's my boy." I want to be that sort of dad. Not just a father -- a dad. Big difference there, when you think about it. Any man can be a child's father. It takes a hell of a lot more to be a dad. Just thinking about that sort of stuff brings a smile to my face. It also brings a bit of worry. That's natural, right? I just want to do right by him.

I just tried a new place for sandwiches for lunch. It's like a five-minute drive up the road into Groton. They use really good deli meats (Dietz & Watson), and the prices are like five bucks for a small, depending on what you get. Even a small is filling, since they really fill up the bread. I ate maybe 60% of the sandwich so far.

So, my plans for when I get home: Before I even think of settling in, I have two packages of chicken breasts to trim and butterfly into cutlets before dumping them to soak in some lovely ginger teriyaki marinade for an hour. There's gonna be quite a bit of chicken, which will make for good leftovers. There'll also be rice in some form, not sure what though. It'll have to be compatible with the marinade flavor, so anything that tastes like cheese is out.
There's absolutely nothing worth watching on TV tonight, so we'll be catching up on the episodes of Medium and House that were taped this week. Right now, I can blame March Madness for pre-empting our usual CBS shows: CSI, JAG, NUMB3RS, NCIS... among a couple of the Monday night sitcoms when they're new...
No major plans for the weekend either, apart from making the run to That's Entertainment (since I missed last week) and WalMart (one of the better ones, not the one that a friend of mine had a nice little rant about a week or so ago... thinking Oxford...). Maybe Chinese for dinner on Saturday, too, with a movie. Might pick up The Incredibles at WalMart.


Sometimes I feel like I'm just rambling when I make posts... like I'm not talking about anything important, or I'm not saying anything that's profound or witty, or not making any social commentary on what's going on around me...
Ah hell, it's my LJ, I'll say what I want...
On that line of thinking... I know what I put out here is available for all to see. I don't really have a problem with that. While not every aspect of my life is a page in my ever-open book, I haven't ever really censored or limited myself in what I put in my LJ for anyone and everyone to see. If there's something private, I'd make it so. I've done so in the past, but not very often. I guess this is one of the few mediums on which I feel comfortable talking about my life in general.
This process is also cathartic at times. Helps me organise my thoughts about something that's going on in my head or whatever. Sometimes it's a vent. Sometimes a plea for help or advice. Sometimes it's just me getting things out and off of my chest or whatnot. Therapy, of sorts. And definitely a hell of a lot cheaper than going to see a shrink.
And the furniture's much more comfortable, too.

This one's dragged on longer than expected...



Nothing more to report.
Carry on.
.

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