On Monday I leave work and lift weights. Continuing the heavy lifting scheme, this is the heaviest that I have lifted in a few years. (Of course I had to be careful over the last year or so with the ruptured L4/L5 discs.) I keep my form as strict as possible and lift heavy. When I am finished I am shaking at the effort that I have expended. And I look forward to a burst of growth hormone from the heavy lifting during the first hour of sleep tonight. The decision to lift heavy was predicated on reducing the stress of emotional turmoil, the Tuesday review, and other things. After lifting I mow the lawn, watch the Sunday's tape of "Boston Legal", and relax.
On Tuesday I get beat up pretty bad during the review at Northrop Grumman. The presentation that I make is okay, but the design has huge holes in it. Holes so big that the Queen Mary can fit through it. The beating during the review is a lesson in humility. When I get home I lift weights heavy again. Though heavy days shouldn't be done on consecutve days, this is the only thing that will get rid of my stress today. I feel incomplete recovery from the day before, but let's see how well I sleep tonight as I'm in bed very very early.
On Wednesday I get to work a bit despressed. But my mood elevates throughout the day as more than 10 people come up to me and tell me that I did a great job of handling the discussion in the face of brutal questions. Except that when I present 6 or 10 more charts on Wednesday as a part of another subsystem review, I get beat up again. The same reviewers decide that I need more slapping around and proceed to terrorize me. My colleagues joke with me afterwards, "If we ever get ahead of schedule we can call Ray to present stuff because he takes all of the questions and chews up lots of time".
On Wednesday night I am in crisis. I have gone for a good 5.5 mile run and tried to remove stress. And handled friendly phone calls with Ruby, Joe, and Person M_C (who has moved to San Francisco and needs cheering up). But I am in emotional crisis. Who do I call first: A crisis intervention team, suicide prevention, suicide intervention, my narcotics anonymous sponsor, or friends or family? I don't know, so I just ride it out without calling anyone. I change clothes a time or two as I decide to go walking and walk off the stress, but then each time I decide to not walk. If the run didn't do it, then walking again won't. I end up laying on the couch with the television on, but I don't hear a single word coming from the television.
Throughout Wednesday night and into Thursday morning I wake up regularly and then have trouble falling back asleep. I toss, I turn, I move around, and I barely sleep.
Thursday is a horrible day and later, when Person C_T returns my phone call, I start with, "I...think...I want....a...divorce". And now we're on the phone for an hour.
On Friday Person C_T calls early and I agree that we need to talk in person after work. Surprisingly Friday is somewhat productive at Northrop Grumman. I arrive home near 4pm and Person C_T arrives a few minutes later. For the next 5 plus hours, Person C_T and I are glued together on the couch in conversation except for the bathrooms breaks and diet Coke or water breaks. Person C_T heads out the door near 10 pm as we compromise and agree to a trial separation.
On Saturday I'm awake at a reasonable hour and get in a 5.5 mile run. After a shower and some grocery shopping I watch qualifying for the Malaysian Grand Prix and then head off to Northrop Grumman to get a start on the week. The work at Northrop Grumman (somewhat) removes my other problems from thought temporarily. It's a productive time even if another person is there who interrupts me with his problem to solve. Person G has sent me a techno version of Pachelbel's Canon in D and so I play it. As I'm playing it at work I take a break and read the news at cnn.com. They have found the remains of the young missing girl in Florida and this, along with the Canon in D playing and with the recent emotional rollercoaster, is too much and I break down and start crying. I cannot even begin to think of the utter devastation of the parents of the girl. I gather myself together and regain productivity for the last hour at Northrop Grumman.
After work I get home to do the laundry, buy a lottery ticket with a winner from a few weeks ago, get some free diet Coke (by exchanging winning caps for new bottles), and I get in a good workout with the weights. I'm a bit stressed (to say the least) and a bit tired, but I push and pull and grunt and groan and have a good workout.
Later Joe comes over and meets one of my online friends from Vietnam. (Recall that Joe is Vietnamese.) Thus Joe and my friend in Vietnam have a long conversation while I go take a shower and change clothes. Finally Joe and I are headed out the door to pick up Person J_VKPI to go clubbing. Person T_U has called in and declined the invitation due to, "...I just got back from a Saint Patty's Day party at the neighbors and probably drank too much. So I'm going to bed early."
As we enter the club I tell Joe and Person J_VKPI, "I'm not taking any phone numbers. I'm not giving mine out. I'm declining all offers. I don't need anything like that now." The music is okay tonight (if inconsistent), the crowd is reasonable, there aren't a lot of acquaintances present, and it is an enjoyable evening. There are potential offers being lined up towards me, but I manage to evade them all. Life is chaotic right now and I have no need for more. We leave the club at 1:30 am (a bit early for us) and after dropping off Person J_VKPI and getting Joe to his car, I rewind the tape of the Malaysian Grand Prix and watch the first few laps. And then head for bed at 3:15 am.
I'm up on Sunday a bit after 7 am to go walking, buy the newspaper and groceries, read the paper, and watch the rest of the Malaysian Grand Prix. I'm supposed to ride bicycles today with Person A_M but that doesn't happen. Instead I relax around the house and concentrate on stress relief activities.
On Sunday evening I get out for an hour walk and check my lottery tickets before going to bed. I have two numbers plus the mega number matched - I think that is an $11 winner. Is this enough to retire on? And I collapse into bed, dreaming of collecting lottery winnings, before 8:30 pm.
On Monday morning I wake up one minute before the alarm goes off at 5:15 am. I'm out of bed and get in a 4 mile run before work. On this Monday morning motorcycle commute, I've loaded up my backpack with extra food and an extra pair of shoes in anticipation of a bicycle commute to work on Tuesday (so that I don't have to carry the extra food and the shoes on the bicycle).