He wrote me a letter about what's going on so I wanted to get a few thoughts down in to the letter I was already composing. So rather than packing for my family's imminent vacation, or doing the dishes, or watching that netflix movie that my wife wanted to see that she will never make time for, so I need to watch it soon and mail it back or it becomes a waste of money, or giving the kids a shower like I am suppose to on Wednesdays, I am cranking out my random thoughts on current family events and 41 years of family dysfunction while temporarily verbally ushering out the kids from the office so I can concentrate, and keeping my eight year old at a distance since he is prone to over the shoulder reading.
Then my wife calls me into the bathroom because my 8 year-old is crying because of problems he is having in creative writing at art camp. They are working on a news paper and the class is for 8 to 12 year-olds, he doesn't understand what he is suppose to do and is basically afraid to ask questions. So her goes another hour of asking 5o questions to fully understand what is going on, partially reassuring him, partially kicking his ass about not coping out, telling him it is a teachers job to explain things to you, if you knew how to do everything you would not have to go to school, the teacher knows you are eight and do not know everything, everyone gets confused, everyone makes mistakes, if you spell a word wrong Google will usually come up with the correct spelling and ask you if this is what you meant to write, etc.
I really should learn to not procrastinate, because at the later moments of preparation for doing something I am damn near guaranteed that someone member of my family will do something unfathomable, become dramatically ill or die, really piss me off, one of my kids will hurt himself, have an accident not making it to the toilet or wet the bed, or a spider will be hanging over my wife as she falls asleep and she will scream for me to run to her rescue ...
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Something similar happened to me last night that set me off. I finally set up a little studio in the office room of our apt. I wrote some music and tracked it on my laptop. I was so stoked to finally have produced something and was just about to turn on my turntable and mixer and have some fun scratching to the tracks. Just then, Paula walks in all stressed out about this thing she's involved in with her cousin that consumes a lot of her time and gives her little monetary compensation in my opinion. Anyway, I had to help her with this project at 12:30 at night after she had been obsessing and stressing on it for hours as I tried to ignore it all. The timing couldn't have been worse and I flipped out on her. There is alot of backstory and underlying issues here that I too won't go into. Just figured I'd share and let you know that, even though I'm not a parent of a human being, I still have crazy life challenges and issues and that we're all in similar boats as human beings living out our lives.
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