A Weary Week.

The week was a sleepy one. I’m pretty sure I only had one day where I felt well-rested enough to make it through without caffeine. There was plenty of soccer, the usual highs and lows at work, and I dragged my tired ass through every bit of it.

I started off Saturday feeling rested and ready for the weekend. First things first—breakfast. Nothing of note, just some damn good sausage and egg breakfast tacos. Sometimes simplicity is exactly what I’m craving, and this is about as comforting as breakfast gets.

That morning I took Hazel with me across town to visit my mother’s dog, Molly. My mom was taking the kids to Austin, meeting my brother halfway, so she was worried Molly would be lonely. Hazel was more than happy to keep her company. She was also perfectly content with the ride over. I love watching her with her head out the window, just taking in all the smells. The simple joys of a dog make me envious sometimes. No bills. No worrying about tomorrow. No bullshit. Just open windows, new smells, and the excitement of another car ride.

I got a heads-up from Yvette that Zips was giving away free car washes. I had nothing better to do, so why the hell not? To my surprise, it wasn’t very busy. I only had to wait about five minutes before going through the wash. Of course, the kid drying my car didn’t put forth as much effort as he probably would have otherwise because they had to keep the line moving. No one needs a pileup.

I decided I wanted a steak from the Mexican market, but before doing so, Yvette and I made a trip to Walmart in search of a toddler bed. Alaya has to start sleeping on her own, and we’re hoping this will do the trick. Lola really shouldn’t have started letting the little girl sleep with her every night because now she needs someone by her side; otherwise, she cries.

At the market, there was some police activity. Not really a surprise—it’s a fairly common thing on the north side of town, unfortunately. I wasn’t entirely sure what was going on since most of the conversation was in Spanish. Yvette heard something about loitering. Who knows? The store manager had called the police.

Inside the store, one of the officers couldn’t find anyone willing to help translate for him, so Yvette did her good deed for the day and helped interpret. I stood off to the side, watching the very grateful police officer and the assistant store manager. The officer just wanted to file his report and move on, and the poor girl was very nervous about providing any information. They were incredibly grateful, and I was once again reminded why I love my wife so damn much. Helping someone in a stressful situation is just who she is.

After that little adventure, we worked together assembling the bed. I have to say, it was rather enjoyable. Our back-and-forth banter while deciphering the instructions was both funny and, if I’m being honest, rather sexy. Weird thing to say? Maybe. Do I care? Not really. Anyway, it took about half the time it would have if we’d been working on it alone. I like putting things together, and she seemed to as well. What a team!

By that evening, I picked up Hazel before firing up the grill. Yvette picked up Alaya. When she came home, she was so excited to have a bed. Yes, it was hers. She seemed absolutely amazed by that. I really hope she accepts it as a suitable place to get some shut-eye.

Well… the shut-eye didn’t work.

Sunday morning, I woke up on the couch because one little girl wasn’t going to let me catch any Zzzs. Hey, at least I did get some sleep.

Since I woke up early, I decided to go all out on breakfast. I wanted to surprise Yvette. Cream cheese-stuffed jalapeños wrapped in bacon, grilled potato hash browns, and fried eggs. A treat for Yvette. She’d been asking me to make stuffed peppers for her. “Nagging” is a harsh word when, in reality, she simply wanted me to make them. I think she was rather happy with me when she woke up.

Hours passed, and suddenly lunch was upon us. Yvette’s parents had us over for chicken-fried steak, mashed potatoes, green beans, and dinner rolls. I passed on the rolls. I was already a bloated mess.

After that, I went grocery shopping. Yay. Good Lord, has my life become such a routine? I think it has.

When I got home, I grilled some chicken legs for meal prep while Yvette took a little nap. Naturally, more World Cup followed. Canada beat South Africa in a rather boring game. Nothing is worse than boring soccer.

I finally finished my graphic novel, Providence, by Alan Moore and Jacen Burrows. As I’ve mentioned in a past blog, the novel is heavily inspired by H.P. Lovecraft. I am a BIG Lovecraft nerd. I eat that material up. I’ve read everything he’s written. Lovecraftian fiction is the best kind of fiction—be it literature or film. There were so many Easter eggs along the way that even my nerdy ass surely missed some. One of the greatest joys I had while reading Providence was recognizing exactly which Lovecraft story a particular scene was referencing.

I thoroughly enjoyed following the protagonist, Robert Black, on his journey through New England and all of his mysterious Lovecraftian encounters. The structure of the novel was unusual and, at times, challenging. The first half of each chapter is exactly what you’d expect from a graphic novel—beautiful artwork paired with dialogue. The second half, however, is presented as Robert’s handwritten diary. At first, the handwriting can be difficult to decipher, but it gradually becomes easier to read as you grow accustomed to it. It may have slowed the pacing a little, but it also gave tremendous insight into Robert’s thoughts and revealed just how often he misunderstood what was really happening around him.

There were some genuinely horrifying moments that were difficult to endure. Quite possibly one of the sickest things I’ve ever seen put to paper occurs around the midpoint of the story. I won’t get into the details, but it involves rape—just not in a way any sane person could imagine. After finishing that chapter, I found myself wondering how Alan Moore ever conceived such a thing and what Jacen Burrows must have gone through trying to illustrate it.

By the time I reached the ending, I realized there was no other way this story could have concluded. It was bleak, brutal, and completely uncompromising. I was glad Moore resisted the temptation to give readers a happier ending because it would have felt cheap and dishonest after everything that came before. I wasn’t quite ready to leave that world behind. I wish there was more to read. When I closed the book, I just sat there for a minute trying to process everything I’d just read. That’s usually a good sign.

Monday was full of exciting soccer. Poor Japan lost to Brazil—expected. Germany lost to Paraguay in penalty kicks—unexpected and sad. It was just an exciting damn day, and I was almost too zapped to enjoy it all. I hate Mondays.

That night it was a full house—unexpectedly so. It looked like we were hosting a party with all the vehicles outside. I grilled a lot of steaks, and my in-laws and Lola’s friend Zander came over. Lola bought the steaks. It had been a while since she’d shared a meal with us. I was utterly exhausted but still managed to have a good time.

The next day I had a training I’d been putting off for weeks: Golf Cart Safety. I was tired from another night with a toddler kicking me in the face, and it was due by five o’clock. What a crock of shit. I guess I was one of the last people who hadn’t completed it. Of course. I figured I could skip the course and go straight to the quiz. I mean, I’ve been taking this every other year for fifteen years.

Well, I was wrong. They decided to get tricky with the questions this go-round, and I failed my first attempt by one question. I needed an eighty and scored a seventy-five. Bummer. Turns out I wasn’t the only one who skipped straight to the quiz and had to retake it. It was much more technical this go-round and relied far less on common sense.

An annoyance, but I finished it around 4:20 Tuesday afternoon.

Hump Day arrived, and I was out of the office for most of it, paying tabs all over town. At least it made the day fly by. Nothing is worse than being confined to the office with nothing to work on while trying to pass the time.

That night, Yvette and I actually had an empty house. That’s a rare thing these days. I put on the USA–Bosnia World Cup match and started cooking. I wanted to make something different for our unexpected little date night. I even picked up dessert for her—a key lime cup with strawberry drizzle. It was a relaxing evening, capped off by one hell of a win for the USA.

I have to say, winning that game right before the nation’s 250th birthday on July 4th is one hell of a patriotic moment for the country at a time when many of us haven’t been feeling especially proud of our government.. The World Cup has reminded me that despite our differences, the world can still come together for something great. We just need to look beyond all the bullshit.

Anyway, what a damn good night we had.

As I was making my rounds around town on Thursday, it became very apparent that most of the shops in town would be closed on Friday, July 3rd. Unlike the university where I work. For whatever damn reason, we would remain open. Bummer of a deal. I guess I’m not really surprised. Class is in session, and if the students are around, then so are we. What was also apparent was that I’d better bring something to pass the time on Friday if I wasn’t going to be out and about.

That afternoon, it seemed I’d finally hit my spending limit. I tried to make a purchase for more than $800, and my card was declined. So fucking what. The business knows me from the university and can accept payment next week since they’ll be closed. Sometimes life just enjoys throwing one more minor inconvenience onto the pile.

After work, Yvette and I took Alaya to the pool. That was the first thing she said when we arrived home. Her momma was going to be gone all weekend, so we might as well start things off on a high note. With her nice new floaties, she could move around the pool freely—and boy, has she become quite the swimmer. She kicked around, and before we knew it, about two hours had passed. We needed to get out of there and make some dinner.

Friday I awoke early again to a kick in the face. How do people get sleep with a restless little body thrashing about? Do they become used to it? I don’t know if I can. With another sleepless night, I started to wonder if the couch wasn’t the best place for me on the nights when she shares our bed. The struggle to get her comfortable sleeping in her own bed is real. She does fall asleep on it, but she wakes up crying and crawls in with Yvette and me. Is this how my grandparents felt? Did my grandfather keep a journal, and did he complain about the nights when I crawled into bed and woke them up? Is this why he slept in the guest room?

The day was indeed slow. It seemed that most of the campus had taken the day off, and since all the local businesses that I deal with were closed, I had nothing to do but twiddle my thumbs. I made a few golf cart trips across campus just to pass the time. Parking lots were vacant. The collective thought among all of us goons still sticking around on campus was, “Why are we here?” The answer is because the students—the very few of them around—were having finals. When the students are active, so must we be. By the time five o’clock finally rolled around, I couldn’t get out of there fast enough.

Another week in the books. I may have spent most of it exhausted, but I can’t complain too much. I suppose a lot of my blog might be complaints. Oh well. There was good food, good soccer, good company, and enough laughter to make the sleepless nights a little easier to tolerate. Life doesn’t always have to be exciting to be worth writing about. Sometimes it’s the ordinary weeks that remind you just how lucky you really are. Now let’s just hope next week’s blog contains one thing this one desperately lacked—a full night’s sleep.

Happy Friday!!