see as i saw

There are no children in my immediate family anymore - all of my parents' offspring exceed the age of 24.  Yet my presents still inexplicably come from Santa.  Maybe one day I'll be a parent and still have the urge to carry on the tradition past its logical stopping point.  But seeing as I busted the Santa myth around the age of six (mom didn't think I'd make the logical leap when I saw her buy a present for my brother which he later opened from Santa), perhaps ability to play along has been skewed.

Extended family gatherings have morphed in the past year or two, with most of my cousins hitting the college age.  There's not really playing and high-octane activity anymore, but an easygoing circle of conversation and banter.  There are some clear differences as you span our ten-year age gap (I am now familiar with a pointless and apparently popular app called Snap Chat), but there's also a foundation for real conversation.

Finally caught up to present day.  Part of me wanted to pretend that the three previous days had disappeared into the ether and didn't warrant words or photos.  But I made a promise to myself that I'd stick this thing out every day for 365.  So, instead of the inert position that I want to be in on my couch, I'm here typing out blog post number four of the evening.

I would definitely say that the frenetic pace I've been living at reached its crescendo (or so I hope).  At the apex of it all, I remembered something important that life has tried to teach me before.  I can't do it all.  I have a tendency to say "yes" too often.  And when I don't have balance, things start to fall out of orbit.

I went to two weddings without having written in the card or remembering to bring the check to put in it.  I sent emails with no recollection of them until I received a reply.  I probably snapped and complained more than I should've and didn't enjoy things as much as I should have.  I've neglected to take care of the health and fitness I spent most of the year honing.  And I've yet to deliver on a promise that I made to myself, investing in that dSLR camera.

So, although my calendar still has events and engagements, I'm going to start figuring out how to work myself back into the equation.  I can't have it all, but I can have a healthy mix.

Sometimes you get angry when bad weather interferes with your plans.  On any other day, I would've been disappointed in a canceled Spartan football outing.  On this particular Saturday, I was thankful for cold driving rain, three more hours in bed, and the potential of an afternoon nap.

If only someone had warned me before I considered those warm, fuzzy feelings.  First, I had to endure another two hours of driving with the nasty weather and the people who want to drive 15 mph under the speed limit in it.  (I know, I shouldn't bemoan their careful attention, but sometimes I just want them to get out of my way.)

And then I learned that tailgating had been replaced with a family party.  Those tend to have a high decibel and too many cameras.  I love my family, don't get me wrong, but a few of their tendencies don't meld well with sleep deprivation.  There happens to be one example of photographic proof, I'm told.  But that's what happens when someone interrupts naptime to pose me in a photo.

I was in bed by 10:00pm and I swear that my phone rang at 1:30am, citing a private caller.  When I looked at my call log in the morning, though, it wasn't there.  Perhaps sleep and waking became so blurred that I was no longer differentiating one from the other, and it never really happened.

What did I ever do when there wasn't technology to aid me on the fly?

On today's journey back to Chicago alone, I managed to confirm that the Bears were playing Monday Night Football (meaning Lake Shore Drive was a safe route to take) and circumvented a likely half hour traffic jam.  While other drivers were joining the virtual parking lot on the Dan Ryan, thanks to the general public's ineptitude for merging, I exited to I-94 local and swept right past.

Google Maps saves sanity.  I would think that owners of a shiny new iPhone are envious of my outdated Android OS and it's functional mapping capabilities.  Did you see that Google Maps now gives you underwater mapping for various reefs?  I digress.

On an average day, I walk down the street tracking buses, determining if the 156 is coming soon or if it's worth walking two more blocks to get on a 22.

When I'm waiting in line at Starbucks, I can check my Gold Card balance (awarded to people who give Starbucks too much money) and even re-up my funds before I reach the register.

Instead of lugging around a 500-page book every day for my commute, it's simply stored in my 4.77 ounce handset.  Honestly, this blog wouldn't be executed as planned without the constant companion of my phone's camera.  Sometimes I wonder if I should nix the idea of a dSLR, just because I'm now so accustomed to the convenience factor of wandering anywhere with merely a phone in my pocket.

It's amazing how wrapped up my life (and many others') is in this technology that I couldn't even conceived of ten years ago.  Amazing, yet a little frightening.  At least I always have those once or twice a year breaks, thanks to international travel without an international phone plan.

After $418 in brakes, a full day waiting around for the shop to finish, and $50 in gas (truly insult to injury), I wasn't in the mood for quality time with the highway.  So it's one more night in the casa de mis padres, and a glass of Spanish red wine for good measure.

There's nothing like a large and unexpected expense to rev up your motivation to find full-time work again.  Conversely, there's nothing like searching for the job you don't know that you want to leave you confused and no further advanced.  That's how I spent today's waiting hours, blindly searching and groping for answers and direction.

I wish that jobs were searchable by the company culture you're looking for.  From there, I think I'd be better able to scan the various job titles and decide what I'd like to pursue.  Today I read a blog post that mentioned a woman who used social media to find a new job.  Here's the twist: she didn't advertise herself as seeking a job, but rather as hiring a new boss.  Maybe I'm relying to heavily on the odds that standard channels of job searching will provide results.  Non-traditional means and outside the box tactics could provide better results, especially taking into consideration my preference for that non-traditional mentality.  Of course, I probably have to figure out at least an industry or two to focus on first.

Something peculiar dawned on me this week.  What used to be an encompassing and dedicated passion has slowly shifted further down the priority list.  It's French Open time and even though I don't have a day job, I have only amassed a couple of hours watching those guys slide around on the red clay.  Partial blame can be attributed to the heaviest coverage being on the Tennis Channel, which had to be struck from my finances.  The ESPN coverage window only lasts from 5:00-9:00am, which is less than convenient.

Regardless, I find myself looking at the draw and seeing so many unrecognizable names.  That can only mean that I've been paying much less attention over the past three years.  Inexcusable.  What's even more dismal is my distance from playing the sport myself.  That whole membership at a racquet club idea backfired in my face.  Public courts in Chicago seem to be more of a waiting game than an actual opportunity to hit balls.  And my strings are so loose that I'd be impressed if my racquet could push the ball over the net from the baseline.

So many excuses.  Unacceptable.  Maybe I don't have the time to dedicate to researching the best and brightest upcoming talent, like I did back in the high school and college days.  I likely can't dedicate ten hour days to watching matches.  And if I want to snag some court time, I'll have to put up with the parameters that the city necessitates.  But ultimately, you have to make a priority of the things that mean something to you.  Tennis, whether watching or playing, has always brought me joy.  So, tomorrow I'm taking the first step toward reigniting the flame.  There's no reason that I can't wake up an hour earlier and spend some quality time with the French Open.  Now, hopefully there are men's matches on at that hour.