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Diaryland is da bomb I just *have* to tell you how much this all sucks. Who're these other people he's writing about? Who's the freak writing this, anyway? What's gone before. What's going on right now? Where do *you* visit on the web? What're you building right now?


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Another smart-assed remark from Mike
It's about freedom
17:00:00 on 2002-10-21

Last Thursday was a whirlwind day -- I had my review at work, and at the end of the day I had a lot of errands to run connected in one way or another to the employee of the quarter luncheon that I was to attend.

Overall, my review went pretty well -- my boss didn't have anything negative to say. I got promoted from senior to lead, although in my group there is no real "lead" per se; it's more of a technical lead for our division of IS. With it came a hefty raise (at least, hefty for what the organization I work for doles out) and no actual additional responsibility above what I already perform, so I couldn't complain.

However, this is not a story about my job, or review, or raise. It's a story that begins with the trip to pick up my pants for the luncheon.


I went to pick up the pants at Nolan's, a big and tall shop in Pasadena. (Yes, I'm both.) After that, I was supposed to run some errands in Pearland, including getting some food for the cat and dropping off a remote control to a VCR to my mother.

While I was there, my mother began to tell me about how she was going in for surgery. I told her some time ago that I would take her to a procedure she needed to have, to place a shunt in her veins for dialysis. I asked her, "aren't I taking you for that?"

She replied that she wasn't going in for that, but to have an angiogram at Hermann Hospital because her stress test turned up some potential arterial blockages near her heart that had to be taken care of before dialysis. She said my grandfather was supposed to take her, but she wasn't looking forward to riding there with him.

Like an idiot, I told her I'd already taken that day off. I took that day off to geek, or more precisely, to put Windows 2000 on my workstation at home. I told her I'd take her to the hospital first.

That was this morning. I arrived in Pearland to take her around 6:30 AM, and drove her to the hospital, but lo and behold, my grandmother went, too. Then, when we get there, I am sitting, waiting for her procedure to even start, which doesn't begin until 1:30 PM. They expected me to stay until the procedure was over, I guess.

I got upset.


This is common practice with my family. My time is never my own to them -- the concept of me having plans is foreign to them. If it has to do with me doing something on the computer, it's even more trivial to them.

This has been driving me insane for years. To them, nothing I do is important. Granted, her getting to the hospital is important, but I've had putting this move to Win2K on hold forever. I'm ready to do it, set up the networking here at the house, set up a web server on the Compaq EN SFF and start doing Real Work�.

However, as usual, I get caught out doing what everyone else needs, and to Hell with what's important to me.

Oddly enough, this is common practice with my friends, too. Have a problem? Need something? Call Mike. Apparently, they don't think I have a life.

What sucks is that I've taken to not calling friends back, or spending time with my family if I can help it. My time is important to me. I am also fighting a constant battle with Marilynn, trying to show her that the things I want to do are important to me, and make her understand that programming and creating and building are long-term projects that take a lot of time.

I am unsure if I am winning the battle for my time or not. With the events of today, obviously not.


It's not just time. Remember that raise I got? Well, I wanted to spend a bit of it on a splurge for myself, in the form of a high-quality pocket digital camera with optical zoom, flash, takes memory cards, the whole ball of wax. You know, something I can do some of that "recording everything" that I find myself compelled to do.

Marilynn got a little upset at the idea of my getting a new digital camera. "We need to buy a table and at least one chair first. Not everything, just those," she says. "I know you've been supporting us, but all of our extra money goes to buy your toys."

First, yes, I've been supporting us. It gets stressful sometimes being the only breadwinner. Granted, she's working now. Granted, she'll start taking up slack, so things will get better, but I still did about five months of duty as the only income.

Also, I know we have been wanting tables and chairs, but I'm tired of looking and deciding what kind we want, only to have her change her mind later. It gets tiring. It's just furniture (he said in that uniquely male way).

Next, technically... isn't this my money? I know we're a team and we're living as a family, but if we get down to it, if it's extra it's mine, right? A portion of the idea of being together was so that we'd get our bills paid off and get the things we wanted, but it's been over eight months now and I'm still lacking broadband, I don't have my own server, I haven't felt free to work on my projects, I haven't felt right about exploring my spirituality. Instead I feel like me and everything that would normally be mine has been attached by Marilynn. (Oddly enough, I always feel this way; maybe it's just the condition of being with someone.)

Third... why are they automatically "toys" because it's something I want? To me it's a tool, to build what I want, to record information. To her it's a toy, just like the hardware I got to improve my workstation, or the Compaq that I bought from work to be a server, or what have you. That irks me. It tells me that she truly doesn't put value on the things that are important to me, such as writing or creating sites or content or what have you. It hurts deep down, but I know if I share it with her she'll play it down.

Granted, I'm going to wait. I've actually decided I want a Canon that's about twice as much as the Fuji digicam that I almost got, but I hate to feel like I have to ask to spend my own money. It's another case of lack of freedom.


It's all an issue of having goals in my life and the freedom to pursue and accomplish them.

Throughout my life I have been called a hacker by others. I let that part of me go because of depression and misguided wanderings into other areas of life, and have come full circle to reclaim who and what I am. However, in that, there is work to be done.

I know what I want from my life, now. I want to work on my own from a remote location. I want to work in several areas, some of which I don't necessarily have a deep background in yet. I want to be able to travel. I want to be able to write, and perhaps, in time, actually write some fiction. I want to live somewhere where it's cold, but not deathly so. I want to live in the mountains.

The first step in achieving goals is to know what you want, but I feel like the freedom to accomplish these goals are being taken from me, because I don't rule my time, or Marilynn has different goals that conflict with mine, or people think I shouldn't pursue them, period.

I've had several talks with a friend from work about goals, and pursuing them, and the disapproval or interference of other forces in our lives with those goals. I think we've concluded the same things from different angles, which is you have to pursue them at all costs. This is why he lives alone: so he can have the things that he wants out of life, even if he is lonely. He still follows his path.

I have a path. But will I ultimately have to walk it alone? Am I denying this to myself?

restlessmind


Ancient history:
2013-03-01"You'll be stone dead in a moment!"
2007-08-07I covet fuck you money
2007-07-16My own long, dark tea-time of the soul
2007-07-11My internet experience is lacking
2007-07-10Coincidence



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