Insomnia

I can't sleep. It's too hot.

Couldn't stand the kids tonite. I played with them like a madman, throwing Sonny and Deck all over the living room, then got sick of it and sort of shoved them away. Felt pretty bad about it but I had very little sleep the night before and was totally fucked. Of course I had to hike four miles in 100 degree weather Sunday and nearly died of heat stroke. Still recovering from that.

It was so hot I couldn't cook, so I ordered Domino's. The driver was on drugs. I did the online ordering thing and saw that it took him over a half an hour after the pizza was done to get here. He called to say he was running late, I'll give him that. When he arrived, though, he smashed right into all our empty garbage cans. They went all over the street. Mary happened to be following him as she came up the hill and saw the whole thing. I'm sure he was out scoring. He had the same tone of voice and bullshit patter that Mary's brother has when he doesn't do what he says he's gonna.

The pizza was still warm though, so I tipped him anyway. I thought about complaining but figured you can't really rat out someone who delivers pizzas for a living. I mean how much lower can you sink? If I had that job, I'd probably be on drugs too. Plus his arms were covered with these really shitty tattoos. I felt bad. I did, however, give him a dollar less than I usually give the old Chinese guy from Round Table. That guy is funny and seems genuinely happy to have a job. Plus he actually acknowledges the presence of my kids. That's gold to me.

I should have tried to sleep but He Got Game was on. I'm a sucker for sports movies and I like Spike Lee and Ray Allen. Ray is one of my favorite players and Spike's movies are very drippy but he's got certain style and I dig how his characters are riddled with imperfections. Then I noticed it was almost 2 a.m. so I talked myself into driving down to 7-11 and getting a Mickey's tall boy, thinking it would help me sleep. So I came home and watched the end of Carrie--because it was on and you sort of have to. Now I'm energized, but only blandly so, in a I-can't-sleep-but-I-should-do-something sort of way. So I made a to-do list and now I'm writing and maybe I'll get back to Tropic of Cancer.

It's been so fucking hot out these past couple of days, it's ridiculous. It was over 100 yesterday and probably close to it today. I have a hard time working when it's that hot. I have to totally psyche myself up for it. Part of the problem is that I sweat like someone with much darker skin. Always have. Throughout school I played sports during lunchtime and came back to class completely soaked. Now it pours down my arms and down my nose and right onto the keyboard. The only way through is to strip down to my boxers, surround myself with fans, position the laptop "upstream," and focus on some deadline like my ass depends on it.

Music helps. Lately I've been going through an old school punk thing. Germs, Stooges, Saints, etc. Sort of coming to terms with the fact that I'm not a huge Minutemen fan. I listened to them back in the 80s and now I understand why I stopped. I dig who they were and what they were about and their originality and talent. If I was a friend of the band I'd probably go to every show. Everything I've read and seen about them makes them out to be really swell guys. But easily four out of five of their songs I could do without. That other one-fifth is some pretty awesome shit, though.

OK enough of this...

Poem

In the drive thru line
Marysa shotgun, Joey in back
complaining again.
I don't want Taco Bell, he says
I'm thirsty.
Ahead of us a bumper sticker
some crap about Christ and hell
and how we have to choose
I pick Jesus, Marysa says
What about you?
She waits patiently for my answer
with perfect blue eyes
and face like fresh pancake batter
It's hard to imagine she'll ever face the Dark
or feel differently about such things
She says, well?
I say
I don't know about that stuff
(because I don't)
I say,
Sorry.
She smirks like I'm crazy
like it's so square peg=square hole. Hello?
Shaking her head as a voice behind us says
He chooses Sprite

Workplace hazards

Back from Disneyland almost a week now. I've lost a little weight. Except for rare instances, I've quit drinking and eating fast food and all meat besides seafood. I started running again and I'm spending more time with the kids. I feel good. I wonder how long I can keep it up.

I'm not sure what's up with me, at least professionally. I'm still working, though not as much into certain aspects. I've decided I'm not into pitching or "sales," at least when it comes to selling anything but myself and my writing. I guess I knew that already, but I tried--for the sake of career and finances--to get into it. "Hey, you should talk to this person, he's an expert at blah blah blah. By the way, I can totally see you living in this house!"

I'm done trying. I'll still do it, but I won't attempt to enjoy it, if that makes any sense, and will endeavor to stop. I'm happiest helping people get what they need or want, or finding out what that is and helping them get it. But I don't want to tell them what it is they want, or assume it. I want to root out the fake. I'm embarrassed I haven't and that I've actually embraced some of the shit.

I'm trying hard to believe I have enough talent to get by on my own terms. It's hard when you have six people depending on you, though. Compromising almost seems inevitable. I just don't want to get swallowed by the beast.

Hostage

I'm sitting at the lobby of the Paradise Pier in Disneyland, watching Disney "XD" on a large flat screen TV. Mary and everyone is in the park with our friend who we flew down to help out with the kids. I drove halfway, taking over in San Luis Obispo last night. It wasn't as bad as I thought it'd be, but there were a couple episodes.

Joey gets amped up whenever he's off his routine and does his best to annoy the shit out of the girls. When we found out we were an hour away from Disneyland, Tanner decided to count down the rest of the way in seconds. She got up to the hundreds when Joey knocked her off her game, and she flips out. I asked Tan if she'd like me to hold Joey down so she could kick him in the nuts. I was tired and not really thinking about my choice of words, but it cheered her up. I asked Joey what he thought of that idea. It was the funniest "no" I ever heard.

We spent last night in Goleta, just north of Santa Barbara. I thought Santa Barbara was a bit stuck up, ritzy kind of place. Goleta is worse. Everything was way too clean, everyone moves like they're on lithium, and the shops and streets take up way too much space. Cities that are too clean get on my nerves. People looked at us and our road-cranky kids like we were white trash and kept a healthy distance. Strange.
I looked at the local Homes & Land while at Dennys. Who can afford to live here? What do people do for money? No clue.

So I'm waiting for my room to be ready and trying really hard not to order a beer, because I know it will knock me right out. After working eight hours before leaving home, I put another four hours in after reaching Goleta, going to bed at 3:30 am. I hardly had the strength but I promised a friend I'd look over her resume and send it to the CEO group I work with. Hope I get a couple stars on my behavior chart for that one. But right now I'd rather have a beer.