I finally have some time to write a post.
Now that golf season is back, that ties up my Friday night and my Saturday morning.
Why Friday night? Playing golf hungover is bad. You don’t wait all week for the most fun part and then muck it up feeling like shit. Needless to say I’ve done this dozens, if not, hundreds of times before.
I can play golf hungover well by drinking more but that kicks the can down the road. I’ve found that turning Saturday into a day is easier to handle than a full weekend.
It was also quite encouraging the first round of the year to hit the ball as well as I did and miss four 4 footers to shoot a 93. Bud shot an 80 in difficult conditions, which was impressive.
On Sundays, I’ve been bowling which I’ve also been enjoying.
After going to the gym lifting for an entire winter, this differs from the summer when I usually run outside and turn into a twig, the ball feels like a marble. I’ve gotten up to 16+ MPH with some serious hook and I’ve rattled off 8 or 9 strikes in a row practicing so I’m close to that 300 again.
Sam, that bet is only going one way.
Monday, the boys had a business dinner meeting with a new employee we will be hiring.
Tuesday, I technically could have written a post, but I was exhausted from, well, life.
Wednesday is bowling league and that brings me to today when I get a chance to write a post.
The Routine
This brings me to, “do I prefer the routine or traveling?”
The routine is nice because I’m healthier. I wake up at 6am, I’m not boozing everyday (see the cruise post), I exercise, I read, and get to bed at a good time.
Work has become a touch redundant, but that’s probably what happens after 21 years. Still, I get the feeling that I’m just waiting to die. A routine isn’t living. It’s being alive, but it’s not experiencing what the world has to offer. There’s a balance there that feels almost impossible to achieve.
When I’m away “living” it up, I’m always complaining how I’m not feeling right.
You could make the argument, “well idiot, don’t drink, and you’ll feel fine.” Touché. Loser. I say this tongue in cheek because it’s clearly good advice.
Anyway, I point to the Office Space line
I’ve become acutely aware of this feeling now that I’ve been back here in my 2nd full week at work.
I have a ball watching the market, gambling on golfers, closing sales, enriching myself, and watching the time pass. It’s only, I was meant to do more.
I want to buy a warehouse and turn it into a concert hall or bowling alley, Or break my phone in foreign lands. Even reaching out to old friends in varying places across the States would be different.
Maybe it’s a mid-life crisis, but you’re not guaranteed tomorrow.
You won’t remember your routine on your death bed. I don’t think I’ll be thinking about how well I worked on a random Thursday.
America has gotten comfortable. Fat, lazy, and thinking we’re the best. And I don’t want to fall into that without even realizing it.
So I’m still motivated to push harder in my life, just in different ways.
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