Wasting a Year

A while back I said that I have a knack for living in the past. My first year of college was rough because I was trying to go back to high school. My first year of marriage was rough because I was trying to live like I was unmarried. I was hoping that wouldn’t happen with the birth of Lemon. But it did. And it all came to a head last week.

I woke up one morning just depressed. I knew what the day held for me and I was longing for the time when I could get up whenever I wanted and do whatever I needed to do – whether that was mowing the lawn and building a cabinet or inking five pages and watching Simpsons commentary – I could fill the day with whatever I chose. Now I had to get out of bed because The Wife probably needs a break and I have to do what I can so I can squeeze in a load of laundry before The Kid realizes she’s growing teeth and starts screaming at everyone.

And that was my mindset. For about a day.

I don’t believe in God – at least not the God that most people believe in. What I mean is that I don’t think that there’s an invisible man in the sky judging us; I don’t think an omniscient benevolent being who needs worship. I do, however believe that there’s something. Now will that something will someday be explained away by science?  Probably (maybe it has something to do with dark matter or “spooky physics”). But I do know that whenever I’ve ever needed anything to get my mind on track, I’ve always received that something in a hurry (you’ll see an almost autobiographical account of that in the Tiny Life book “Our Short Years” available in 2020). Case in point:

As I was hitting my crux of depression; that is, as I was thinking of ways to get my life back to where I could do whatever I wanted whenever I wanted, I heard “Float On” by Modest Mouse. I don’t know what that song actually means, but it has always meant “everything keeps moving forward no matter what,” which is pretty much what I needed to hear. Once that song was over, AC/DC came on the radio, so I immediately switched over to my iPhone where I was in the middle of listening to the Adam Carolla Show. Someone asked him a serious question about not mentioning The Man Show in his recent book. He said that he always looks forward and he tries to never repeat himself (he then goes on one of his signature tirades about having a failed pilot on NBC and then immediately starts another one).

After thinking long and hard (no penis jokes please) about why I don’t really care that much about publishing Tiny Life, I realized that I’m like that too: after being finished for more than a year, I still have to contact Diamond about distributing “left”.  I constantly work on the Next Thing.

My mind immediately aligned with my life. I went home, played with Lemon, inked for 30 minutes, and painted a room. These things aren’t burdens (although they can burdensome) – I’m not sure if they’re blessings either (I think it depends on mood) – they’re simply my life. I have to move forward because that’s the only way life can move.  Once I realized that, I was no longer longing for my “better” life.

So I think I’ll write another article about hobbies I don’t have and then ink a page before I go take care of my daughter for the night.


2 Responses

  1. My daughter was born on the 7th, and I was about to write some heartfelt and meaningful response, but I can’t get past the “I do, however believe that there’s something” business. What’s next, that you’re not religious but you’re spiritual?

    I know, who cares? Believing in crazy bullshit for no good reason can be a motivator of important affairs. There’s no inherent virtue in having correct beliefs. Just about every artist I’ve admired has believed in something totally looney tunes, and has generally been a real asshole about it. Seriously, J.D. Salinger was a real son of a bitch.

  2. Jesus is that “something”

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