CHECKLIST

Did anyone happen to see my wife last week?  She's about 5' 7", slim, flat booty, nice rack, Corean, and is frequently mistaken for being a New Yorker (not because she sounds like Joe Pesci, but because she speaks like she has a chip on her shoulder).

Amy was at an oncology conference in San Diego last week.  I had the week off, so I watched the kids with help (i.e., interference) from my mom. 

I made a list of things to do during my week off: 

- Mail ebay games - Done.  Buying and selling used games is a hobby I picked up last year.  I make spare change.  I sample tons of games free.  Profit!

- Balance accounts - I do this at least three times a month anyways.  Balancing the accounts is a stress reliever sometimes. 

- Replace Star Wars Lego game for the Wii - No luck.  There's something technologically backwards about putting valuable information (as in $50 games) on little discs that scratch if your kids leave them on the floor.  Floppy discs, even 8-track tapes, had more protection.  Sometimes I wonder if technology is supposed to help the corporation at the expense of the consumer.

- Organize folders - Check.  I can't resist the notion that life could be perfect if you could just compartmentalize each aspect into little color tabbed folders.  As if the minutiae of your life could fit on 3 x 5 cards and eventually be collated to form the perfect term paper or world-changing novel.  Somewhere within those aisles of leather padfolios and side-load stacking black (or grey or clear) desk trays lies the secret to harmonic perfection, the Lost Temple of the Holy Trapper Keeper.  A land where you not only plan the future, you create it. 

Anyways, this week I made a new folder - Toys - as in "Save the fucking toy instructions that tell you how to change your kid's Transformer into a vehicle and back again."  Save the instructions - so simple, so genius, I tell you - too bad it's one Christmas, two Transformers, and two Lego playsets too late.

 

- Move desk upstairs - Once upon a time I had my own little Corean-decorated room in the basement.  I haven't used it since our kids have grown more.  I don't feel comfortable spending less time with the kids so I moved everything upstairs instead (well, everything except for the k-pop posters).  My new Command Center now functions as a drawing desk, library, and video game station.  The kids also use it to recreate the final battles of Ragnarok using Justice League vs Star Wars vs Halo figures.  

- Buy paints - I bought a new set of paints.  I used to do some acrylic paintings in college but haven't painted (in color) since.  I like to believe that I might paint on canvas again someday.  Maybe learn to airbrush.  I like to believe. 

- Mail thumb drive with tax files to accountant - Doh!  Damn it.

- Write more - Nope, not last week. 

- Draw more - I sketched a few things on one of those off days. 

 

- Upload old journal entries - This is coming slowly.  It's weird seeing how much has changed in ten years and weird seeing what hasn't.  I had so much more time back then.  The future seemed infinite then.  Now it is much more finite. 

While Amy was away, she said she tried not to think about the kids.  She would purposefully tune out when her friend started talking about her children.  She missed them too much, even after two or three days, and tried to avoid picturing their faces. 

They missed her too.  I was able to bond with my little girl more since she wasn't attached to her mommy's hip for four days.  At one point my almost four-year old daughter did an impression of Amy.  She tilted her head to the side, made a huge smile, and yelled over-enthusiastically (like Amy does with the kids), "OH HI OOSEUNGY !!!"  It was so funny.  So perceptive.

It's unnerving when you see that perception and thoughtfulness in your little kids.  When your three-year old tries to make YOU laugh or your five-year old generously offers YOU treats.  Sun Su saw me typing this and within two seconds saw "Star Wars" among the 600+ words on the page.  Just wow.

Amy's main complaint was that even fancy hotels smell funny.  She missed the smells of home.  I laid down with her on the bed and buried myself in her hair.  I missed the smells of home while she was away too.