APSJUPSQ Day 19
So it’s been a few days since my last post. Nine to be exact. Work has just been a real wanker and my stress levels are finally returning to a normal state of: stressed. As opposed to the last several days where my stress has been topping off at: up in the bell tower with the HP rifle only to realize the scope is broken and open sights were removed. Please stop wagging your finger at me–I get it… I AM WORKING whereas so many are not. For the time being I can still pay my bills. I get it. Let’s just call it a different kind of stress.
Everything there is to do in New Jersey is closed other than obtaining food, walking our frigging dogs, watching television or going through most of the steps of baby creation. While that last one can be fun until chafing sets in, it’s extremely hard to accomplish when THE KID IS ALWAYS AROUND. And speaking of the kid…
Daughter has become vocal about not being able to stand the sight of us anymore. “We do everything together” has become her go-to excuse for backing out of everything from movie selection to board games. During the single board game we did play, Katie Kaboom managed to turn a game of scrabble into something akin to drunken rugby. I’ve never seen anything so competitive in my life. The fact that I won the game must have been the last straw, because at it’s conclusion, she calmly and quietly prepared a “microwave mug cake” that she insisted was for me, and left it on the counter for me to enjoy. This, from the same person who’s main household chore is to pick up the dog poop. I backed away, slowly… very slowly. The flavor of the cake, you ask? Chocolate. Uh-huh.
In the interest of full disclosure, my wife is where the girl gets the near-insanity level competitiveness from. With Jeanne, EVERYTHING is a competition and I keep that firmly in mind when I do anything with her. There is a fine line between letting her win and securing my own personal well-being, vs “winning” at something and watching the seismograph red-line as the volcano prepares to erupt. And this is over something like food-shopping speed or teeth brushing. Battles must be carefully picked and chosen. After losing the aforementioned scrabble game to both myself AND the daughter, her blank stare into the abyss ended with a suggestion that the next game of scrabble be played with knives. Not even sure how that would work, but I simply let it go as I continued to fearfully contemplate the mug-cake.
Lord, I miss shooting. All the April matches were officially cancelled this week…. sniff.
Most of my junior shooters are running our of air in their air pistol cylinders. Some are twitching in fetal position at the thought of going back to only dry-fire.
Back to work.