Preparing for My Son's First Day of Pre-K

Because I didn't get video or pictures, I wanted to document with the written word my family's preparation for my son's first day of school. It is September 9, 2010. My wife and I are preparing for her sister's wedding in Puerto Rico -- 9 days hence. We are in good shape financially, with the exception of a huge federal back-tax obligation and a couple of student loans. I am gainfully employed and my wife and I work from home for an entrepeneur in a start-up with a huge upside. After the wife's sister's wedding, we intend to renovate our apartment, put it on the market and move to climates more hospitable to a developing family. Our son will attend a private school for pre-K as part of a city sponsored program that covers much of the expense. Our son is 4 years old, beautiful, lively and inquisitive. He is already comfortable using computers, he reads and he's not afraid of numbers. Tonight, at approximately 6:30 PM, my wife and I introduced him to his brand new school supplies. Using stickers depicting characters from a couple of his favorite TV shows and movies, we customized his folders, allowing him to lead the way. It was a once-in-a-lifetime experience. The sun was setting on a partially cloudy, rather cool Thursday afternoon. There was a brisk wind and the leaves beyond our picture window swayed in the breeze. In the twilight, our boy sat at the dining table opposite my wife and me as she announced to him, piece by piece, his required school supplies. As his eyes lit with joy at the sight of each of them, my wife and I were struck with those emotions known only to loving parents. My eyes met with hers, and no comment was necessary. During this process, our daughter joined in. She had no idea of the significance of the moment. Regardless, she was going to participate, and was prepared to offer loud, disconcerting protest in the form of one of her patented tantrums if she was denied. Not wanting to risk that, my wife acted to placate her with a make-shift folder of her own that she could customize with left-over stickers. Mission accomplished. Our children are wonderful. I am thankful everyday for them, and for my wife.

Evidence of Anxiety

The economy is in free fall, the same group of idiots that foisted Bush on us these last eight years are threatening to do the same with McCain and Palin and I'm not sure I'll be able to sell my co-op at a profit next year when I have to go house hunting. These are just some of the troubling things I know and compartmentalize somewhere deep in my subconscious so that I can function. I don't let them eat at me...or so I thought.

Today, I came to work with a chip on my shoulder the size of a Hummer. I didn't even realize it was there until I had to deal with the routine foolishness perpetrated by my coworkers, stuff I typically ignore. Today, all of a sudden, I had had enough.

I didn't do anything unseemly. There was no shouting or theatrics. I simply released a salvo of pointed comments that left nothing to the imagination for their targets. I exposed just enough of the stuff that drives me to give people pause for thought, and new reasons to dislike me. None of this is important at all; workplace politics are inevitable. The question is why did this happen? What drove me to coolly insult people I normally disregard? After spending much of my day pondering my own odd behavior and reorganizing my desk, it dawned on me...it's the economy, stupid, and soooo much more. I'm under tremendous pressure, and I'm afraid it may be reaching critical mass. Something's gotta give, but damned if it's gonna be me.

I'll go home and sleep it off. I'll go in tomorrow and be my robotic self. But it won't be the same anymore. People will know that I'm feeling pressure. That's OK, though. At least now, I know I'm feeling it, too.