psytrak

Well lately I’ve been extremely stressed, mainly work, and the other day I came home from a particularly bad day when I got into it over the phone with my father. Parents…. Even when you’re a parent yourself they still boss you around. So, not noticing I got wise with him and I could tell in his voice he was upset. As soon as I tried to apologize it was already too late, he said, I’ll talk to you later and hung up. Needless to say I felt worse, so as not to take it out on the wife and kids, I did as I always to and separated myself to calm down.

My wife is pimp. She came up and said, what’s wrong, to seem upset. I told her what happened; she kissed my head, and told me come down when you are ready. I stared at the computer; angry for about a minute or so, then told myself, either you can do something about it or continue to sit here like a lump on a log. So, a few updates to the resume and I’m posting away. That doesn’t help, well, no wonder; I’m still focused on what’s got me upset; so after 30 minutes or so I decided to work out. I must have done about tow hours of kettlebell workouts, then decided to stop. The combination of adrenaline, fatigue, music, and my wife & son popping there heads in really helped. After I was done, took a shower, grabbed the boy and sat down with the family to watch TV.

The thing that bothers me a lot is when I’ve got a lot of BS on the brain, training suffers. I’d like to say that it doesn’t but it does. Being upset all take takes a lot of energy, lets not even start with the loss of appetite. I know that throughout the day I’m going to have my moments that cheer me up, but, I’m worried that my performance is going to suffer. Jiu-Jitsu is like chess with the ability to break bones, the last thing you want it to be off your game. The chances of you getting hurt as not as high as the chances of you hurting someone, so it’s a concern, but at the same time, it’s days like this where I sometimes focus more. All and all, the rain, and the ****ed vibe at work aren’t making the hours tick faster.

Well that’s my pitty party for the day. Training is going to be just what the doctor ordered…

I’m not sure how many of you sit on your ass all day like me, but I tell you, it sucks!!! I have never had as many problems with my back as I do now. All day long it’s like an internal battle to sit with good posture, but it last about as long as I’m thinking about it, then slouch! Not to mention it’s really tuff to stay awake…. So if you where ever wondering, yes, I’m bored….

So last night I was in class training, love that place! Well I was rolling (sparring) with one of the students that is the same level as me, but he’s got a chipped bone in his ankle. So as we’re rolling, I’m stopping a lot, to make sure that the position we’re in is not hurting him, so it’s a light roll. Some how he gets on top, puts his knee on my sternum and I defend. Now the proper defense for this is to turn your back away from the person so your back is in the direction of their chest, while simultaneously pushing their knee off you.

Ok, so, I do this, once, nothing–put I get more on my side, tiwce, still nothing, fourth or fith time it works. Works a little too good, as soon as I get his knee off my sternum his drops to the mat, in pure pain. I knew something was wrong, I could feel it in my hands as his leg started to move, so by the time he was on the mat I was already sitting up with my hand on my head knowing that I could do nothing for him, that’s the worst feeling I can think of having while training. Last thing you want to do is hurt a friend, even if accidentally. Well my instructor sends someone for ice, and I’m running to the bathroom to get the first aid kit, but there is no cold pack in there. By the time I come one he’s no longer in a ball, but struggling to get his wrap of the ankle. So I reach out to start unwrapping and he’s yelling rip it off, don’t be gentle just rip the tape!!! I look at him and calmly say, I can’t do that, you’re in enough pain, I’ll move as fast as I can though.

It was rough, the whole time I’ve got his foot like a inch from my face, and I’m trying not to move the ankle, but as the tape comes off it get stuck, and I’ve got no other choice. By the time the ice gets there we’ve taken a lot of pressure off the ankle and he’s not in so much pain, but the ice is in a cup….. So I go back to the bathroom dump all the paper towels out of the plastic and use that as a bag. I must have apologized like 40 times, but I still feel like it’s my fault. I should have had more control, more patients, I knew he was injured, I should have just let him get the position and I’d work from there, but in the heat of the moment reflects take over…

After we spoke; he took the responsibility, and took the blame, and it was one of those holding door open you first, no you first moments. By now it’s time to spar again and my instructors second in command tells me, hey you’re in lets go, so I go. This time I’m with the largest person in class, who loves the top game, I know that he’s stronger then me and heavier, so I’m not letting him get into his game. I know he’s setting his grips and just as I say, hmm I should dom something, nah let me counter with better grips, he alligator roles and I go flying, he gets on top and just rakes his forearm into my top lip. I tapped, got up and was like WTF! Yo, what are you doing! Calm the F down, shit! This look of shock runs across his face, and I realize, shit it’s not you, I’m still really emotional about the ankle thing, and apologies. I think I broke the other guys ankle, damn! What a loser, no control and I hurt a friend. Totally bummed about that.

Ok, I don’t really, but, I hate the jar that I have now. I left it sitting for a while, and it settled on the bottom, so the jar of peanut butter was part oil, part brick style peanut…. Well after almost a whole day of stabbing twisting, turning, and internal yelling, I’ve got the brick to be the same consistency of the oil….. AKA I’ve gotten no where! No I’ve got a jacked up hand, and I can’t get the smell of peanut off of it…. Thought that I’d share that, seeing as how that was a major part of todays snacks…. So I’ll be using the less bricky version on my rice cake… lame! It’s supposed to be Smooooooooooooooooth… puhhhhhhhh

So, since I didn’t have to shave I gave myself an extra two whacks at the snooze button this morning, didn’t even get back to sleep, but getting out of bed then rolling back into that warm spot I was just in feels great. No sooner then I close my eyes does my phones alarm clock goes off. Now I’ve got to get up and turn that one off–this time getting back into bed was not as magical. Ten minutes pass, and waaa waaaa waaaa waaaa waaaa, get up, turn it off!!! Back to bed, five minutes pass and the phone AGAIN!!! So now I’m like screw it, I’m up!

I do the morning things I always do, and as I’m ironing, my wife–the heavy footed morning zombie goes marching to the bathroom, no baby, which means she is still sleeping. Great I can jump in the shower with the wife and we can both be done before the kids wake up. (Bathing you horn balls, there’s not enough time for morning nookie) Crap, I forgot my underwear; good the bedroom door is open. I walk in like a ninja and as I look on my bed, and who is in the middle of a full body stretch looking right back at me? You got it, the daughter, so, no shower for me…. Wait, I’ll bring her bouncer in the bathroom, sweet! Baby in one hand, undies in the other I go in to the steamy bathroom. Ok, Nena, just sit here while Papi take a shower—WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
!!!! that’s not happening…. The wife pops her dripping wet head out the shower, and says "She’s not going to let you put her down, hold on" I look at her, like, wow, you really had to point on the obvious… Dipping wet she steps out the tube, water pooling up at her feet. Good thing we’ve got that rug to soak it up.. My wife didn’t even get both feet on the groud when the daughter starts throwing herself. I’m thinking, I should just have stayed awake the bed the first time…

Now my shower is done, and I’m yelling at my son; GET UP TIME FOR SCHOOL!!! errrrrr — five minutes later little eight year old legs tangle off the side of the top bunk, BOY! Get out of the bed! EEErrrrrrrr, NOW!!!! I’m tiiiiiiiirrrrrrrrrrrrred! OUT OF THE BED NOW!!! Uuuuuuuuuu……Laughing comes from the other room, Elmo is on… I’m half way down the stairs, when–Baaabe! Can you make his lunch?!? Sure, I reply. Now I’m downstairs, getting his lunch ready, and my day worth of food prepped while wondering if I’m going to have time to walk the dog… I should have stayed up the first time!!

His lunch, done! My protein shake, and daily supps done; salad, done. Dog, damn, the dog, I still have to walk the dog, shit! Babe watch out I have to get in the fridge. HEEEEEYYYYY!!!!! That’s my daughters’ word, she uses it for everything, and the funny part is we know exactly what she means. I kiss her cheek and she turns her head into her mothers’ neck then looks back at me, smiles, runs in place and yells with a huge smile on her eight month old gums. I start to put the lids on my lunch and snack when the phone rings–my father-in-law.

Here, hold her my wife says as she drops the baby in my arms, then darts off to get the call. Hi Dad, what! Noooo I didn’t–Umm, Babe I’ve got to–She puts her finger up because I’m talking while she’s talking and trying to stop her father from talking. Oh, ok, then, we’re good right? Ok, yeah, alright, I love you bye. Here, I still have to, DAMN!!! Not enough time, can you let the dog out? BOY!!! Come eat! eeerrrrrrr!!! Is he out of the bed? Yes, he’s already dressed. BOY!!! Hurry up! eerrrrr….. stomp, stomp, stomp down the stairs, what the hell is up with your hair!! eerrrr, I don’t know… What do you want to eat? I don’t know; this? NO!! You are not eating a donut for breakfast! (In-laws)

Now my wife is fighting with my daughter upstairs. Stop moving, I have to get you dress, WAAAAA!!!! Back downstairs. Ok, do you know what you want to eat? No, well figure it out, I’m leaving. Running up the stairs I can hear this little girl having a fit, and I ask what’s going on up here. She’s mad. My wife replies. Duuuh, why? Because I took her bottle to put her shirt on. Then give it back to her. I did she doesn’t want it. Oh…. ok, well I’m leaving; the boy doesn’t know what he want to eat, so he still hasn’t eaten. She yells down to him–FIND SOMETHING TO EAT!!!! A high pitched YES MOMMY, comes back. Ok, baby, I’ve got to go I’m running late, I love you, kiss. I love you too, kiss. Hey! Kiss your daughter she says as she rams this little tear filled, snot oozing, drool dripping, bundle of the cutest thing ever in my face. Mwwwuaaahhh, bye Mama, WAAAAAAAAA AA AAAAA. Ok, bye, kiss, kiss, I love you!
I dart down the stairs, boy, kiss him, what are you eating, I don’t know….. Ok, sounds great, go to school hungry, I’m leaving, kiss. Where’s my… Oh there it is, ok, I’m out. Wait, where’s, my laptop, ok, got it. Good! At the door I run through my checklist; shoes, keys, ID, wallet, phone, food…ok. ALRIGHT!!! I’M LEAVING SEE YOU LATER!!! I LOVE YOU!!!! BYE!!! BYE BAbY!!! BYE PAPI!!! YOUR DAUGHTER SAYS BYE TOO!!! Close the door and I’m off to the sweatshop. About five minutes or so I reach for my protein shake–the one that I always put in the center console, and, where the….. DAMN!!!

So, I call the house, ring, ring, ring, ring,ri–hello? Hey babe. Papi, it’s me, not Momy…. Oh, ok… Hey, can you do something for me? My wife now says hello, or more like, a hectic, what’s up. I was just about to ask Mouse (That’s my sons nickname) to do something for me, but now that….. Hi Papi…. What, who, ok, Mouse can you please put my protein shake in the fridge, it’s on the table. No it’s not. (me) It’s not, (him) no… Now my minds starts to think a million miles a minute, I know I made it… where is it. Ok, Mouse. Yes. Check by your piano… It’s not there, and it’s not in the basement either. How the hell did you get to the basement? I ran, he responds.

Ok put Mommy on… What’s up?!? Babe is my protein (I’m interrupted with…EEEEEEAAAAAAAAAATTT!!!) shake on the table. No, as the babies talking in the background over her brothers, I don’t know what to eat… I’m going to kill your son, there is no protein shake there. Can you check by the door? I ask. She sighs, then fusses an eat this. I don’t, EEEAAAAT IT!!!!!!!! Ok, he quickly spits out…. It’s not there, wait, it’s in Isa’s’ (Eee-sa) chair… I’m thinking, how the hell did it get there…. Oh well, hey, can you put it in the fridge? Sure. Thanks… Is everything alright? Your son is a pain in the ass!! I know, I chuckle back. Then something something something, Ok I’ve got to get back to driving talk to you in a little. I love you. I love you too, bye. Click….

So I get to work, pissed that I don’t have my shake, my whole balance is off, but at least I’m on time. So I get to my box, a.k.a, my cubical and start to get the breakfast ready when I notice that my bowl is too big for the 1/4 cup or oatmeal I packed. Screw it, banana time. As I reach into the plastic grocery bag for my banana, I notice that I brought my bag of nuts, but no nut cracker….. I sigh, and chuckle to myself as my manager walks bye. Hey what’s up? How was the weekend? What are you laughing at? Why do they always ask questions in threes? I reply not much. Good. I’m laughing at this as I show him the bag of nut, then say, I forgot the cracker….. He chuckles, Monday, and walks away.

So as if my day wasn’t annoying enough, the chick that sits on the other side of my cubicle is munching away on some extra crunchy chips that come packaged in a bag of the loudest plastic the world as ever produced. Which must be purely awesome because every time she eats one she gives her finger a blow job, then pops another, and chews the whole time with her open. Please don’t start to fantasize of some hot 25 year old bombshell; she’s an old Jewish looking lady with frizzy hair, and bad posture. She’s a really sweet lady, we talk all the time, but her chewing kills me, and it lasts all day! I’d like a bag of chips that never emptied…..

Well that’s my Monday, crazy, yeah, but I love it, not the work stuff, but the home, crap. The kids are great, and my wife cracks me up; man we’ve got a sitcom going on! Oh, I just remembered, no dressing for my salad either… I normally make a lemon, lime, fresh herb dressing with olive oil, but not today…. Hopefully I wrote this in a fun enough manner that you enjoyed reading all of it. I’m going to cry now…. lol