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Halloo! Hallay! Oh, frabjous eve!
Jun. 30th, 2001 12:48 amI don't really know how it happened, but the last 1000 words of the translation kind of went by in a flash (and they still made sense when I went back to read them, too!)
The item is delivered.
Today, I formally asked my Houston client - who had sent me an e-mail recently offering a two-week assignment starting on July 9th - if they could shift me by a week, so that I would be in town the weeks of the 16th and 23rd, instead. They said they'd think about it, which is reasonable, though I am inclined to think they may not go for my proposal.
Funny how suddenly, now, I develop some kind of sense of "time with family" coming first, ahead of job. (Even funnier I should say that after cramming myself into my office for prolonged periods over the past three nights running, into the wee hours... working.)
From a young and tender age, I had always bought into, or had been shoved into, the idea that excelling at your job was directly an expression of how much you cared for your family. Working long hours, burning the midnight oil, coming up with great concepts for The Boss is all worth it, even if it means missing going on vacation with the family a couple, three times, right? The money makes up for it, right?
Horse puckey, and other epithets.
The money gets spent... mostly on stuff you didn't really need... and even if you did need what you bought, after a couple of decades whatever it was you bought is probably busted/boring/soiled/stolen/lost/tossed or what have you. How do you balance things like that against... memories?
I will never forget Drew's spectacular catch while playing right field in the Scotts Valley Little League (I did attend a handful of games), or working with Lee on her science project, which took her to the Colorado state competition. There are other moments, too, but I feel they are too few.
Looking at Huntur sleeping in the crook of my arm earlier this evening, I thought back to all of the time I spent at work, making a living, while my kids grew up like that, right under my nose. Yes, sir-ree, I had my blinders on good and tight, with my eyes focused on... what? There I was - engineer, programmer, freelance writer and translator - everything, I think, but "father" (though my kids tell me I'm being way too hard on myself when I talk like this).
Hey, before I go too far in this vein and start regretting ever making a living, I should keep in mind, I suppose, that the things I learned, and designed, and wrote, and said kept food on our table and a roof over our head. We did more than just get by with the bare necessities, too... but I don't want to get into details (aside from perhaps mentioning the two family vacations to Europe, which are also favorite memories of mine).
Getting into details like that seems to me to be one step short of (and probably leads to) keeping score, and I don't think I've ever kept score. What's the game? Anyway, why start now?
I'm most certainly babbling, and probably am beating myself up both needlessly and excessively. It's late. I'm finished with the translation, life is good, but it's time to go to sleep.
Cheers...
The item is delivered.
Today, I formally asked my Houston client - who had sent me an e-mail recently offering a two-week assignment starting on July 9th - if they could shift me by a week, so that I would be in town the weeks of the 16th and 23rd, instead. They said they'd think about it, which is reasonable, though I am inclined to think they may not go for my proposal.
Funny how suddenly, now, I develop some kind of sense of "time with family" coming first, ahead of job. (Even funnier I should say that after cramming myself into my office for prolonged periods over the past three nights running, into the wee hours... working.)
From a young and tender age, I had always bought into, or had been shoved into, the idea that excelling at your job was directly an expression of how much you cared for your family. Working long hours, burning the midnight oil, coming up with great concepts for The Boss is all worth it, even if it means missing going on vacation with the family a couple, three times, right? The money makes up for it, right?
Horse puckey, and other epithets.
The money gets spent... mostly on stuff you didn't really need... and even if you did need what you bought, after a couple of decades whatever it was you bought is probably busted/boring/soiled/stolen/lost/tossed or what have you. How do you balance things like that against... memories?
I will never forget Drew's spectacular catch while playing right field in the Scotts Valley Little League (I did attend a handful of games), or working with Lee on her science project, which took her to the Colorado state competition. There are other moments, too, but I feel they are too few.
Looking at Huntur sleeping in the crook of my arm earlier this evening, I thought back to all of the time I spent at work, making a living, while my kids grew up like that, right under my nose. Yes, sir-ree, I had my blinders on good and tight, with my eyes focused on... what? There I was - engineer, programmer, freelance writer and translator - everything, I think, but "father" (though my kids tell me I'm being way too hard on myself when I talk like this).
Hey, before I go too far in this vein and start regretting ever making a living, I should keep in mind, I suppose, that the things I learned, and designed, and wrote, and said kept food on our table and a roof over our head. We did more than just get by with the bare necessities, too... but I don't want to get into details (aside from perhaps mentioning the two family vacations to Europe, which are also favorite memories of mine).
Getting into details like that seems to me to be one step short of (and probably leads to) keeping score, and I don't think I've ever kept score. What's the game? Anyway, why start now?
I'm most certainly babbling, and probably am beating myself up both needlessly and excessively. It's late. I'm finished with the translation, life is good, but it's time to go to sleep.
Cheers...
