This is week 107 of The Life of Riley, a weekly post detailing my activities since I ended a thirteen year career as a corporate drone. These posts are usually long, personal, and geared more for my own memory than the reader’s entertainment.

Sunday (Day 742): Baby Shower

I drove #1GF! to family’s house for a surprise baby shower. I enjoy ladies and all, but then there are a ton of them in a big group, it’s a little weird. I stayed for an hour and greeted everyone, and then got out of there to let the ladies do their thing.

I somehow missed a turn and ended up taking a tour through Brockton on the way home. After a circuitous route back to where I should’ve been in the first place, I called my father, who was visiting at his cousins. He wanted me to visit, too, but I was picking up some grout sealer and going home to seal the bathroom tile while I had a little time.

I picked up some grout sealer at a home megastore, and got one coat of it on the bathroom floor before #1GF! called to be picked up. It was 3:30, and she asked where I was. When I told her I was at home, she was not happy about having to wait another 45 minutes for me to come get her.

I don’t know anything about showers, so I thought I had until 5 or so. I figured that I could get one more coat in and get on the road. I got in the car and practically flew to her family’s house to get her. When I finally got there, everyone was gone, and I had to commandeer my mother and her vehicle to have enough room to get all the presents home. It was unbelievable. As I was loading the stuff into the car, I kept thinking that if I was the one having the shower, I would probably be able to fit my gifts into my pockets, and still have room for a frog and a ball of twine.

This is week 106 of The Life of Riley, a weekly post detailing my activities since I ended a thirteen year career as a corporate drone. These posts are usually long, personal, and geared more for my own memory than the reader’s entertainment. This one is weighing in at a hefty 7,200 words.

Sunday (Day 735): Seeing From A Child’s Perspective

I made breakfast for #1GF! and we relaxed in front of some home improvement shows for an hour. I don’t know if it was inspirational, but I mowed the lawn and weed whacked soon after.

#1GF! hadn’t been to the beach all year, so we grabbed our chairs and walked down to the beach in the afternoon. It wasn’t too hot, and the tide was following a breeze out to sea, making it feel more relaxing than the surrounding crowds would indicate.

One of the neighbors showed up with her six year old a little while after we did, and sat near us without noticing that we were there. They eventually noticed us (after I waved for a while) and the mother and daughter walked over holding hands. The mother looked down at the little girl and said, “Okay, go ahead.”

The little girl looked at her mother and then at us. She was only slightly taller than #1GF! and I, even though we were sitting down in some low slung beach chairs. Her small face broke into a grin, framed by her bob haircut. She craned her neck up toward her mother and leaned in against her leg. She whispered, “No, you say it.”

The mother grinned. “Well, she just want you to know that when she’s older, she would love to babysit for the baby.”

The child beamed and nodded. Her bob haircut jiggled back and forth.

“Aw, thanks,” I said taking a pragmatic approach to the bucket of cute standing in front of us. “How old are you now?”

“Six,” said the little girl.

I’m not sure at what age girls start babysitting, so I took an educated guess. “So in… seven years then?”

This is week 105 of The Life of Riley, a weekly post detailing my activities since I ended a thirteen year career as a corporate drone. These posts are usually long, personal, and geared more for my own memory than the reader’s entertainment.

Sunday (Day 728): An Uneventful Sunday

It was a lazy Sunday. I finished You Suck: A Love Story, and thought that it was neat how some of the scenes and characters overlapped from Moore’s novel, A Dirty Job. Finishing a book would be the closest that I’d get to an accomplishment for the day. I watered the plants, picked a couple of flowers for #1GF!, and generally relaxed. We we went to dinner to avoid cooking, and talked about an upcoming interview.

Monday (Day 729): LOR, Resumes, And Baby Prep

Wrote LOR until 5:30PM and then printed out a few resumes. The pages were coming off of my 400 year old printer with splotches, so I spent some time cleaning the rollers with some q-tips and glass cleaner. Fifteen minutes later, the pages were coming out splotch free. While they printed (and on various breaks throughout the day), I looked through my book of interview questions to brush up on the answers to some of the tougher questions. I figured that if I could answer some of the trickier questions, the easy ones should flow right by. I shut down the computer at 8PM.

I went to bed a couple of hours later, and fell asleep almost instantly. It was as if my mental exercises were as tiring as physical ones. As soon as I fell asleep, I was woken up by the phone ringing. I didn’t get aggravated because it was a family issue. As soon as I fell back to sleep, I was woken up by another phone call. I found myself thinking that being woken up randomly is a part of parenthood, so I had better get used to it.

Tuesday (Day 730): Highway Robbery

I got up, buffed my shoes, threw on a suit, and went to a job interview. I know, you’re thinking, “But what about the dream, J-Dawg? How am I going to quit my job and write if you’re giving up on the dream?” I’m not giving up on the dream, but there’s nothing wrong with exploring options when they’re presented.

This is week 104 of The Life of Riley, a weekly post detailing my activities since I ended a thirteen year career as a corporate drone. These posts are usually long, personal, and geared more for my own memory than the reader’s entertainment. This week marks a full two years without a boss.

Sunday (Day 721): Stained Glass Cake, Pixie Stix, & Raleigh Good Robot Friends

The first thing I did when I got out of bed was to make two kinds of Jell-o. It’s the kind of random thing that unemployed people do so that they have something to eat while they’re sitting on the couch watching Jerry Springer with their imaginary robot friend. The jello is also good to have on hand as a distraction in case anyone randomly shows up and points out that they’re sitting on the couch with a shop vac that seems to have a mullet wig and fake mustache glued to it. Nothing distracts from being caught in a strange situation like the jiggle and shimmy of Jell-o.

Seriously? You’re not buying what I’ve got on the counter because you know the real stuff is in the glass case, right? You know I don’t watch TV during the day, and that the robot isn’t allowed up on the couch, anyway. I had to start the Jell-o the first thing after I got up because it was part of a stained glass cake that I was going to make for a dinner we were going to. Once the Jell-o was in the pans and in the fridge, I set the refrigerator on “Turbo Cool” (no, that’s true), and made breakfast for #1GF!.

#1GF! had been concerned that we were running out of time to get things set up for the baby, so I was working on getting the contents of three rooms rotated to put her at ease. The office had already been moved, so the next thing that had to happen was to move the den into the former office, and all the accumulated baby items into the former den.

The process was a one man job, with the exception of an eight foot sleeper sofa that would be easier with two. I hadn’t lined up any help yet, so I decided to start prepping the couch to get it through the tight doorways without the use of Jell-o or Jell-o related lubricants.

This is week 103 of The Life of Riley, a weekly post detailing my activities since I ended a thirteen year career as a corporate drone. These posts are usually long, personal, and geared more for my own memory than the reader’s entertainment. This week clocks in at about 7400 words.

Sunday (Day 714): An Unusually Lazy Day

It was raining, so #1GF! and I sat on the couch all day watching movies and home improvement shows. If I didn’t shut the TV off at 10:30PM, we’d still be watching home improvement shows right now. The only semi-productive thing that I did all day was to reorder and restock our Netflix queue to get some movies into our house that we actually want to watch.

Monday (Day 715): A Better Robot

I wrote LOR from 8AM to 7PM, cranking out 7,600 words (a bit over thirty pages of text for those counting). I had pre-written a rough draft earlier in the week in the hopes of cutting my marathon Monday writing sessions down a bit, but it didn’t seem to do much good.

I’m starting to realize that if I don’t write the framework beforehand, I write all day. If I write the framework beforehand, I write all day and the post ends up a lot longer. There was a time when these LOR posts only took a couple of hours. If only the quality went up with the time invested, my name would be a household word by now. Then, I’d be able to afford to get myself a better robot.

Tuesday (Day 716): Uncommon As A Daisy

I looked through Cooks Country and Cooks Illustrated for recipes, which isn’t all that unusual. This time, I made a list of some of the ingredients that I would need so that that I would actually be able to cook one or two of the recipes for #1GF! instead of casting recipes aside at dinner time because I lacked one or two key ingredients.

I took my list and headed out to do the food shopping. The road to the store is a fairly main coastal road, with two lanes on either side of the yellow line. I was driving along in the left lane listening to whatever was on the radio and trying to stay off of the bumpers of the Mercedes and BMW’s that don’t seem to have any sense of objects that exist outside the driver’s skin.

As I made my way through the maze of hard-braking, blinker-hating morons, the driver of a Land Rover decided to cut into my lane. They didn’t bother to check over their shoulder to notice that the space they were trying to occupy already had a car in it. In a snap, ROCKET CAR! was forced over the yellow line and into oncoming traffic. I hit the brakes, and steered back into the lane behind the SUV, who had decided then to put their blinker as an afterthought to a hard left turn in front of oncoming traffic. It zipped off down a side street.

This is week 102 of The Life of Riley, a weekly post detailing my activities since I ended a thirteen year career as a corporate drone. These posts are usually long, personal, and geared more for my own memory than the reader’s entertainment. This week is a long one, clocking in at a little over 7600 words.

Sunday (Day 707): Fabricated Mother’s Day Memories

Even though #1GF! can have anything she wants for breakfast on a Sunday morning (Belgian waffles, omelets, fruits, muffins, or whatever), I can almost guarantee that on most Sundays I will be making a variation of one thing: a bagel, egg, and cheese breakfast sandwich. This week, I was leaning towards omelets, but ended up making sandwiches with yellow peppers, mozzarella and American cheese. I think the variations in Sunday sandwiches are more for my entertainment than by #1GF!’s request.

#1GF! and I played a quick round of Pandemic before going out to sit on the stoop. It was windy and cool with clear skies, and felt like we had skipped summer and had stepped into fall six months early. The air had the feeling of stiff school sneakers and the restraint of an impending detention.

#1GF! timed me doing the cube because there were no neighbors around to witness one of my nerdy quirks. I completed it in 1:36, which as far as I can tell, is a record for me. I lightly spiked it on the floor as I went inside.

This is week 101 of The Life of Riley, a weekly post detailing my activities since I ended a thirteen year career as a corporate drone. These posts are usually long, personal, and geared more for my own memory than the reader’s entertainment.

Sunday (Day 700): What Is Happening To Me

I woke up and turned to #1GF!. “I just had a dream that the weather was going to be 64 degrees with a thirty percent chance of rain.”

“That’s weird,” said #1GF! while wiping the sleep out of her eyes.

“What it is, is the most boring dream ever created. I mean, if you talk about the weather, you’re short on conversational topics. What is going on in your head when you dream about a weather forecast? A mild and nondescript one at that.”

#1GF! just smiled and rubbed her belly like she has a tendency to do these days.

We got up, and I made breakfast for #1GF!. I plugged in the portable radio, and swished through the dials looking for something to listen to while I cooked. I ended up settling on a station known for its bone drying selection of soft classic rock.

The music hovered between the rock of my parents’ generation and music that was released when I was way too young to notice anything that wasn’t played as a string of single notes by a colorful toy. The station leaned into the sleepy reaches of Carole King and The Rolling Stones and refused to get up.

It was unoffensive and unnoticeable, like a grandfather concentrating on the newspaper at the kitchen table. The music sort of hung in the air and quickly faded from memory. While dropping an egg into a pan, the sizzle snapped me out of the blanket of sound that I was wrapped in, and I wondered what was happening to me that I thought that soft hits were suddenly preferable to an actual heart rate.

This is week 100 of The Life of Riley, a weekly post detailing my activities since I ended a thirteen year career as a corporate drone. These posts are usually long, personal, and geared more for my own memory than the reader’s entertainment. You’d think that week 100 would be celebratory and awesome, but it somehow ended up just like all the other weeks.

Sunday (Day 693): The Marathon Mulcher & The Water Girl

For the first time in a long time, it felt like a lazy summer Sunday morning. I ate my breakfast and sat on the couch reading a book while #1GF! cleaned out her closet and put away her winter clothes. There is nothing that a man can do when a woman decides to clean out her closet, so I continued reading and tried to stay out of the way.

Before noon, #1GF!’s friend brought by some baby equipment for us. Although I’m grateful for the free stuff, I have no idea where all of these contraptions are going to fit in our house. As #1GF!’s friend drove away, #1GF! and I sat on the stoop enjoying the warm summer air that showed up a couple of months early.

I hopped off the steps and picked up more glass from the lawn while #1GF! sat enjoying the sun. I cannot fathom how so much glass got left on the lawn when there was a full dumpster in the yard. Were the workers breaking windows on the ground around the house and throwing away the frames? I shook my head and crouched in the bushes to pick up another handful that had worked its way up through the soil.

I piled the glass on the stoop, and #1GF! threw it away. I looked out at our lumpy, patchy, and generally misshapen lawn, and wondered if our kid would be able to have bare feet in the yard before she lost the urge to. I thought about doing landscaping, but the temperature was slowly pushing upward toward 85 degrees. It seemed too nice of a day to waste on yard work, but the more I looked, the more I thought that something needed to be done.

This is week 99 of The Life of Riley, a weekly post detailing my activities since I ended a thirteen year career as a corporate drone. These posts are usually long, personal, and geared more for my own memory than the reader’s entertainment.

Sunday (Day 686): Lying Under The Porch

I woke up thinking about all the things that needed to be done around the house. It’s not the best way to wake up on a Sunday morning, but it does set a tone for the day.

I made breakfast for #1GF!, as has become the tradition around here. We had nothing really planned, so we watched a home improvement show afterward. That show turned out to be nothing more than a pep rally for household chores. After the show, I cleaned out the tub drain and then raked the yard, neither of which turned out to be as exciting or fun as they sound.

I raked up all the dead grass and leaves from the yard until 2PM and then picked up glass that was sparkling through the grass nearly everywhere. I still can’t understand how much glass can be left in the yard considering the amount that we’ve already picked up. It’s unreal.

While I worked in the yard, #1GF! dusted and swept the house because she can’t sit idle while other people are working. I told her that making a baby is work, but she didn’t believe me. I tried to put it into terms that she could understand. I told her that if I had to shoot a baby out of my naughty parts, I would’ve quit my job on the second month and spent the remaining seven months in the fetal position on the mere premise of the horror that would ensue. She thought that I was cute, but still didn’t believe me.

This is week 98 of The Life of Riley, a weekly post detailing my activities since I ended a thirteen year career as a corporate drone. These posts are usually long, personal, and geared more for my own memory than the reader’s entertainment. This week is clocking in at a little over 26 pages.

Sunday (Day 679): Easter Dinner And The Lack Of Free Space

#1GF! got up almost immediately, but I, lay in bed. I was tired but couldn’t seem to sleep. By the time I realized that there was no valid reason for me to be in bed, #1GF! was already preparing lasagna for Easter dinner.

#1GF! left to pick up her mother and I stayed and cleaned up. The biggest things I did while she was gone were to shower and make a cracker plate for the small Easter dinner we had planned.

My parents and #1GF!’s mother arrived at almost the same time, and while we were all sitting around the table, and the neighbor next door came out of her house and waved. I had my back turned, but the laughter got me to turn around and find out what was going on. Everyone at the table was waving out the window.

Because I’ve always lived where houses are built in very close proximity to each other, there has always been an unwritten rule that people pretend not to see each other if there’s a pane of glass between them. I suppose it’s a way to give people the illusion of space where there isn’t any to spare. That idea got thrown out the window for a brief moment, and everyone thought it was funny as hell.

We had a non-traditional Easter dinner of lasagna, salad, and sausages at the early hour of 1PM. For dessert, we had a key lime cheesecake, apple pie, and cookies. There would’ve been more food, but I did a fairly decent job reminding #1GF! of the small number of people that would actually be sitting around the table.

Once the bellies were full and the dishes clean, my parents headed out, and #1GF! and I drove her mother home. When we returned, we watched The TV Set, which would’ve been a lot worse if it wasn’t for the all star cast. We followed that up with a couple of episodes of Mad Men because someone said that I looked a little like the main character. I don’t see a close resemblance, but then, we all like to think we’re beautiful and unique snowflakes.

This is week 97 of The Life of Riley, a weekly post detailing my activities since I ended a thirteen year career as a corporate drone. These posts are usually long, personal, and geared more for my own memory than the reader’s entertainment.

Sunday (Day 672): I’m Not An Actor, I Just Play One On TV

I dug out some shirts for characters in a short film that I was putting together, before spending twenty minutes whipping up a magazine cover that would be used in the film. As I got dressed, I walked around the house trying to learn my lines. A friend of mine would be stopping by at around 1PM to commit the idea to film, and I wanted to be as prepared as I could.

At around 1PM, #1GF! and I sat on the stoop enjoying the sunshine. The air was warm and the flowers were pushing up, making it seem like a perfect day to not be filming inside.

We sat there for a bit, and I would occasionally lean over the edge of the brick stairs to pick up some large pieces of glass that were still hiding in the bushes. As I scanned across the lawn, I could see more glass sparkling as if it were winking at me to come get it. I didn’t have shoes on, so I started taking off my bright, white socks.

“What are you doing?” asked #1GF!.

“I’m going to pick up the glass and I don’t want to get my socks dirty.”

“But you’re ok with getting your feet dirty?”

“Well, yea, they’ll be inside the socks, so when I go back in, I won’t be dirtying up the house.”

It seemed like solid logic to me. I crouched on the lawn and picked up a small shopping bag full of glass.

Our friend from Burning Snowman called from the road and said that he was bringing a camera, a leather jacket, and sack of wigs. I laughed, until he showed up at 1:30PM with the camera and an actual sack of wigs in tow. #1GF! retired to make sauce, and I tried to explain the look that I had envisioned for the film.

In the following three hours, I realized that I am not an actor. You can make all the faces you want in the mirror, but when the camera’s rolling, there’s a distinct lack of feedback to tell if you’re making the right face at the right moment.

This is week 96 of The Life of Riley, a weekly post detailing my activities since I ended a thirteen year career as a corporate drone. These posts are usually long, personal, and geared more for my own memory than the reader’s entertainment.

Sunday (Day 665): Moo Shu Pork Omelet

I made a leftover Chinese food omelet sandwich for breakfast, and I have to say that it was one of the more delicious breakfast sandwiches I’ve made in recent history. We hung around reading for a good portion of the day, with my biggest achievement being the installation of a bathroom towel rack. Oddly enough, that small check mark on the list of things to do made it feel like all the crap that needs to be done around the house wasn’t such a big deal. I don’t know why, but I felt at peace with it all.

At 3PM, for a lack of something better to do, #1GF! and I went out looking for a dining room table. We hit three stores and may have actually decided on one.

I ate leftovers for dinner, and despite my protests, #1GF! had cereal. No matter what I offered to cook for her, or how much I claimed that cereal was invalid as a dinner food, she would not yield. She ate cereal. After “dinner”, we watched Kung Fu Panda, which reminded me that I need to keep a better eye on the Netflix queue.

Monday (Day 666): Dude, Where’s My Evil?

I woke up early and lay in bed thinking about all the things that I was supposed to do. I got up and got dressed because I was supposed to drive #1GF!’s mom to an appointment. #1GF! said she’d take care of it. I protested, but it didn’t do me any good. I changed into my around the house clothes, got #1GF! out to work, and spent the entire morning writing LOR Week 95.

This is week 95 of The Life of Riley, a weekly post detailing my activities since I ended a thirteen year career as a corporate drone. These posts are usually long, personal, and geared more for my own memory than the reader’s entertainment.

Sunday (Day 658): Throwing Things At The Parade

I woke up at 7AM and lay there thinking about all the things that were going to need to be fixed now that the warm weather was rolling around. #1GF! lay there sleeping peacefully until she realized that I wasn’t. The weather was grey and cloudy like my thoughts, and if it wasn’t so warm, I would’ve expected it to snow.

I made bagel sandwiches for breakfast, but beyond that, I didn’t feel like doing anything. #1GF! kept offering suggestions, no matter how many times I told her that it was unnecessary. I wasn’t interested in a solution. I just wanted to sit and ignore the list of things that needed doing.

In the afternoon, we went to a St. Patrick’s Day parade. We didn’t go because we like to go to parades, but because #1GF!’s mother likes to go to the parade. The St. Patrick’s Day parade has become somewhat of a required attendance event over the years. I have no idea how I got roped in to the process, but I did, so I go.

It’s a small town parade, so they throw candy like mad from every car and float. The kids bring gallon ziplock bags and easily fill up one per child. I didn’t bother with the candy unless it was merely to throw stray pieces at the kids and look the other way like I didn’t throw anything. Every once in a while, I would catch a stray Tootsie Roll, or #1GF! would hand me one and I would chaw on it to pass the time.

We not only saw little Michael on his candy quest again this year, but we had the fortune of standing next to a comedian. I didn’t get the guy’s autograph, but maybe I should’ve. If a coffee float came through, he’d yell out to ask if they’re going to throw free coffee. If a ice cream truck came through, he’d yell out to ask if they were going to throw ice cream. If a bank came through, he yell out to ask if they were going to throw money. Would the hilarity ever stop? I was in danger of shooting liquefied Tootsie Rolls out of my nose every time the guy opened his mouth. If only an obliging ninja star salesman were in the parade, we could’ve taught the guy about irony.

This is week 94 of The Life of Riley, a weekly post detailing my activities since I ended a thirteen year career as a corporate drone. These posts are usually long, personal, and geared more for my own memory than the reader’s entertainment.

Sunday (Day 651): #1GF! and The Amazing Hobo Sapiens

To start my Sunday off with a side order of fun, I started going through the instructions for my taxes. As I was reading, I found this interesting line:

“Income from illegal activities, such as money from dealing illegal drugs, must be included in your income on Form 1040, line 21, or on Schedule C or Schedule C-EZ (Form 1040) if from your self-employment activity.”

That’s right out of the instructions. To make matters more amusing, Schedule C is entitled, “Profit or Loss From A Business.” I wondered about how much ink could be saved by eliminating lines like this from federal tax instructions.

After I went through federal and state instructions, #1GF! and I went out for a walk. The weather was nice, so it seemed like a good opportunity to get some mild exercise. Within two minutes of starting the walk, I got a call from a friend that I haven’t talked to in years.

He asked how the blog was going, and I said that I needed to get a regular job. As fun as blogging is, it won’t pay as much as tech does. “I can get you interested in what I had for breakfast, but I haven’t been able to make it pay,” I told him.

The guy mentioned that sometimes when he’s reading this blog, he gets loses a lot of time and eventually says, “Ok, I have to stop reading this.” I’ve heard that same thing from other people, I think it’s one of the coolest things about the Life of Riley. It’s second only to the times when people I’ve never met tell me that they started laughing when a story of mine popped into their head while they were driving to work.

This blog is the potato chip of literature. There is nothing in here of any real literary nutritional value. People know this, and yet they keep sticking their hands into the bag. For me, that’s pretty cool.

This is week 93 of The Life of Riley, a weekly post detailing my activities since I ended a thirteen year career as a corporate drone. These posts are usually long, personal, and geared more for my own memory than the reader’s entertainment.

Sunday (Day 644): Human Perception Is Exception Based

I made #1GF! breakfast, and then we sat down to watch RocknRolla, a British action movie from the director of Snatch. I didn’t think it was a phenomenal movie, but it was sort of gritty and had enough action to keep me interested. If there were a sequel (which seemed likely, given the way that it ended), I would probably have to check it out.

The sun was shining and it was warmer than expected, so #1GF! and I went outside and stood in the street talking to the neighbors. There were kids hard at play everywhere, so the parents were standing in the street to keep car speeds down.

After the conversation died down a bit, #1GF! and I went for a walk around town. I felt OK, but my voice was still dropping as my cold moved from my head to my chest. I still wasn’t ready to admit that I was sick, because admitting that there is a problem is the first step toward defeat. Or something like that. We walked around for a half hour, enjoying the sunshine and the ocean breeze before heading back.

When we got home, I took twenty minutes to fix #1GF!’s headlight that I had failed to fix the week before. When I got back in, #1GF! looked at me like she was surprised.

“Wow, that was fast,” she said.

“Well, it’s not like it was hard or anything. It’s just a headlight.”

“Why didn’t you just fix it last week then?”

“I guess because it was cold and snowing and I couldn’t get a grip on the light. When it’s warm, things are easier.”

This is week 92 of The Life of Riley, a weekly post detailing my activities since I ended a thirteen year career as a corporate drone. These posts are usually long, personal, and geared more for my own memory than the reader’s entertainment. .

Sunday (Day 637): Don’t Blame Me For My Beard

One of #1GF!’s headlights had gone out, so I went out to the driveway to get it replaced before the snow started. The light was behind the battery, so it was difficult to get at with my set of regular sized man hands. I figured that I would take the battery out to make the job easier, but of course, the tie down bolts were rusted. Any pressure applied to the nut, twisted the tie down and put it in danger of snapping. It was Sunday before a scheduled snow storm, so I didn’t want to be driving all the way to the auto parts store for something I broke.

I shoved my hand behind the battery and tried to get the light out, but it was cold and I couldn’t seem to get a grip on the rubber boot that protected the light. Just as I was starting to get frustrated, it started snowing. I closed the hood and went inside to scrub a batch of manly, but achievementless grease off my hands.

To try to get at least something checked off my list, I decided to install a dimmer switch on the light over the sink. #1GF! couldn’t stand how bright the light was, and had started getting in the habit of leaving it off when washing pans. Without light, pans don’t get very clean. Considering that a switch replacement isn’t very involved, I thought it would be a quick little check mark to prove that I was still good for something around here.

I turned on the light and went down to the basement to the electrical panel. I clicked off the breakers one at a time until #1GF! called down that the light had gone off. Sure that I was safe, I went back up to start the install.

While pulling out the old switch, the bare copper ground wire touched the outlet next to it and sparks popped all over the counter. I’ve replaced a ton of switches, outlets, and fixtures without a problem. I always shut off the power, and I even go so far as to use one hand at a time, so that if I somehow did complete a circuit, the current would go from arm to toe instead through the heart. Something like this has never happened before.

This is week 91 of The Life of Riley, a weekly post detailing my activities since I ended a thirteen year career as a corporate drone. These posts are usually long, personal, and geared more for my own memory than the reader’s entertainment. .

Sunday (Day 630): Less Programmable Than A Big Trak

I woke up out of a dream where I was saying, “Well, it will be about twelve months before we get foreclosed on.” I have no idea what the context was. I then drifted back off to sleep, only to wake up about an hour later thinking, “Well, Congressman, I don’t really give a fuck what the legislature thinks.” Again, I have no idea what the context was. If each weren’t strange on their own, the combination made me doubt my own sanity.

Once we got out of bed, I made #1GF! the most boring breakfast sandwich in the world. I wolfed it down so that I wouldn’t waste any energy trying to extract any enjoyment out of it.

I was looking for something to do while #1GF! finished eating, so I tightened up the railing on our attic stairs because it had been installed so poorly that it wiggled about a half inch. It would drive me crazy whenever I noticed it, so while I had it in mind, I decided to fix it.

The screws holding the railing to its supports were so tight that I couldn’t tighten them by hand. I could visualize the installer not having a screw gun handy and saying, “So, it wiggles. Fuck it. Good enough.” I grabbed a screw gun and in under ten seconds, I crossed something off my “list of 100 things that make my house suck”. Seriously. If everyone just did their jobs…

It was raining again, so I went down to the basement to check on our shrine to the window of perpetual overflowedness. The robot was sleeping in front of it, and popped his eye open just as I walked by. He whistled like I wouldn’t notice that he was asleep. He doesn’t have the circuitry to know that whistling implies guilt rather than absolves it. I ignored him.

I looked out the window and there was only about an inch of actual water in the window well, so my mud dams were holding back the water from our weeping window of doom. Unfortunately, the water that would’ve normally flowed into that window well was forming it’s own new body of water that was threatening a window nearby. This house is like the hydra of home problems: You solve one issue and two pop up in it’s place.

I turned to the robot. “Sorry to bother you, but did you think you might warn me about lake Onario Junior over here that’s threatening to flood this window?”

The robot kept staring out the window of perpetual overflowedness because, well, that’s what I had instructed him to do a few weeks back. “I can’t believe that a farm kid on Tatooine could build C-3P0, and a huge corporation can’t crank out a basement robot with advanced logic circuits.”

This is week 90 of The Life of Riley, a weekly post detailing my activities since I ended a thirteen year career as a corporate drone. These posts are usually long, personal, and geared more for my own memory than the reader’s entertainment.

Sunday (Day 623): Commuting To Cow Hampshire

We were at #1GF!’s Mom’s house at 8:30AM so that the whole family could ride up to Cow Hampshire in a single three row SUV. It was sort of cool not to have to drive two cars, but it was impossible to have any fun because the kids were busy watching movies and the adults were alternating between staring out the window or sleeping.

While up north, I played the Wii for the first time, and wasn’t as impressed as I thought I should be. I guess motion-sensitive controllers are a novelty, but to me, Nintendo is still a kiddie game system that always seems too young for me. Then again, I’ve had that prejudice against every Nintendo system released after the NES. I think the only reason that I like the NES is that it was released when I was an actual kiddie.

The Wii and the air hockey table were on at the same time, so while I was getting beaten by a seven year old at tennis, #1GF! was beating a range of ages in air hockey. Challenger after challenger fell, and I gave up my spot at the Wii to lose the worst out of anyone. We left New Hampshire around three, and the whole trip seemed a little odd. It was almost as if everyone was a little disconnected.

This is week 89 of The Life of Riley, a weekly post detailing my activities since I ended a thirteen year career as a corporate drone. These posts are usually long, personal, and geared more for my own memory than the reader’s entertainment.

Sunday (Day 616): Peloooooo Vaqueroooooo

While talking with #1GF!, the conversation turned to how I think I watch too much TV and how I’d like #1GF! to help me stop watching. If we look at talking with people as the highest form of social communication, then talking on the phone would be a lesser form, and talking through chats and e-mail would be less than that. While lower forms of communication certainly have their place when higher forms are unavailable or impractical, I’m finding that these days, lower forms are frequently used to replace higher forms.

Talking through internet chats is a perfect example because I tend to chat with more people than I’ll ever call. That’s fine, but everyone who normally would be called or visited, gets a chat, making me feel like I have actually talked with them. I haven’t. It’s deceiving in that it makes you feel like you’ve talked with people, when in reality, you’ve merely left them a series of meaningless notes.

For me, television is the biggest trap of all, because it actually impersonates and replaces higher forms of communication without being a two way method of communication at all. It gives you the feeling that you’re getting information about people’s lives or having people over to your house, but you’re not. You’re sitting in front of a box that is keeping you complacent by showing you recordings of people who you will never interact with and who are not even there when you’re watching. You have zero interaction, but it gives the impression that you have interacted with someone. That you don’t need to invite anyone over. That you’re not alone.

This is week 88 of The Life of Riley, a weekly post detailing my activities since I ended a thirteen year career as a corporate drone. These posts are usually long, personal, and geared more for my own memory than the reader’s entertainment.

Sunday (Day 609): Mira! Global Thermonuclear Mullets

I was snapped instantly out of a dream in the middle of the night because I thought the house was flooding. My eyes flicked back and forth in the dark while I listened for the source of the sound. Within seconds, I realized that it was merely #1GF! running water in the bathroom.

I can sleep through wind, thunder, Mack trucks, and all sorts of expected sounds no matter how loud they are because my brain has some sort of filter that eliminates anything familiar. When a sound is atypical of my environment, I wake up instantly and alert, no matter how quiet or distant. I asked my brain to add bathroom water to its sound filtering blacklist, but given the way the house has gone, I don’t think it’s a particularly safe thing to do.

When I eventually woke up to start the day, I thought it was Monday. After the flood scare, I was not very psyched about getting out of bed. When I realized that it was still only Sunday, I thought it was funny that even without a job, I had that giddy feeling like I gained a weekend day.

I got out of bed on my bonus weekend day and made breakfast for #1GF!. I sat at the counter for a few moments writing notes of what happened over the last couple of days in my notebook. The counter was ice cold.

“This counter better keep this place cool in the summer because it sucks right now.”

“I know.”

“I’ve been leaning on the thing for maybe five minutes, and I can feel the cold in my legs. That just doesn’t seem right.”

I shook my head leaned back on the counter to continue my writing. You’d think I would learn. I was pulled out of my notes by a crack, and my arms instantly lifted off the counter. I looked at #1GF!. “Did you just stomp your foot?”

#1GF! looked up from her magazine as if she were waiting for the celebrity haze to dissipate. “What?”

“I heard a crack,” I said, still holding my arms up like a choking child.

This is week 87 of The Life of Riley, a weekly post detailing my activities since I ended a thirteen year career as a corporate drone. These posts are usually long, personal, and geared more for my own memory than the reader’s entertainment.

Sunday (Day 602): Going Through The Motions

I made breakfast for #1GF!, and then played a couple of games of Hive when she went to take a shower. I get a strange sense of accomplishment when I beat the PC, but that wasn’t happening much. I got a little bored with finding patterns that provided hollow human over PC victories, so I took a shot at the cube. I did it in 2:46.

Once #1GF! was ready, the two of us tried to figure out what sized dining table would fit in our dining room. We laid pieces of cardboard on top of the old apartment sized table that I wish was only figuratively on its last legs. We zeroed in on a size that wouldn’t overwhelm the room, and gave up instead of going to buy table. Once again, thinking like I’m broke gummed up the process.

We drove to #1GF!’s mom’s house to program her phone because we were looking for an errand to do, but didn’t want to do anything on our own lists. Getting to her house was a long enough ride to make it seem like we were getting something done, but it really was just an excuse to feel like we were doing something.

This is week 87 of The Life of Riley, a weekly post detailing my activities since I ended a thirteen year career as a corporate drone. These posts are usually long, personal, and geared more for my own memory than the reader’s entertainment.

Sunday (Day 595): Focus On The Journey

I got up and shoveled six inches of snow off the ground, and then watched a movie and a couple of home shows. When I was burned out on TV, I broke out Lost Cities, and #1GF! and I played until I couldn’t stand playing another hand.

Normally, I have no problem staying home, but I think I was a little stir crazy from being in the house for a couple of days and I couldn’t settle into anything. I didn’t have anything I wanted to do, but I didn’t like not being deprived of the option of going out if I felt like it. I didn’t feel like it, but still…

We watched a couple of episodes of Run’s House, a reality show featuring Joe Simmons (Rev. Run) of Run DMC. The show’s message was to avoid focusing on the destination because it never ends up being what you thought it would be. I thought about how fun it is to spend my days writing and then thought, “Words aren’t going to buy you a dope rope chain with a beard medallion on it, home slice. Save that feel good mumbo jumbo for when you have enough money to realize that it won’t buy happiness.” I lay in bed thinking of book ideas to extend the journey a bit longer, but didn’t come up with anything interesting.

It may not look like I’ve been writing, but I’ve been plowing through the backlog of Life of Riley Posts that went missing in mid November, when I took my first writing break to move into a new house. That break turned into a two month hiatus.

Even though #1GF! warned me that people wouldn’t see the posts if they were posted to their original dates, back posting makes it easier for me to connect events to real times in my own memory.

So, in a compromise move, I’ll link to new editions of the Life of Riley below as they become available.

The Lost Editions Added As They Become Available

Life of Riley Week 77 (4,200 words)
Life of Riley Week 78 (6,000 words)
Life of Riley Week 79 (7,000 words)
Life of Riley Week 80 (7,300 words)
Life of Riley Week 81 (4,100 words)
Life of Riley Week 82 (3,300 words)
Life of Riley Week 83 (4,500 words)
Life of Riley Week 84 (5,200 words)
Life of Riley Week 85 (3,500 words)
Life of Riley Week 86 (4,100 words)
Life of Riley Week 87 (4,000 words)

The Life of Riley is a weekly post that details my activities since I ended a thirteen year career as a corporate drone. These posts are usually long, personal, and geared more for my own memory than the reader’s entertainment. This edition was a lost episode that was written later and back-posted just to keep the dates straight.

Sunday (Day 588):Tea Bags and Cheap Screwin’

I made a broccoli and cheese omelet for #1GF! even though she didn’t want it because, sometimes, I don’t take requests. It was snowing, and the snow was whipping by the window horizontally. Horizontal is the new vertical when it comes to snow this year.

We watched Hancock, which really could have been good if they took the idea of an unwilling superhero in a different direction. Instead, the movie seemed ended up being sort of dumb. I want it known that I had the plot figured out from the first time Will Smith and Charlize Theron met. I wish that I didn’t, but wishing doesn’t make good movies. Good writing does.

I went out to shovel in the 20 degree weather and met another neighbor. I usually work really hard to remember names, but we were talking so long that by the end of the conversation, we both had to ask what each others names were. She was a nice lady. She told me to come over if I ever needed a tea bag. I tried my damndest not to smirk like the immature idiot that I am.

This is week 84 of The Life of Riley, a weekly post detailing my activities since I ended a thirteen year career as a corporate drone. These posts are usually long, personal, and geared more for my own memory than the reader’s entertainment. This edition was a lost episode that was written later and back-posted just to keep the dates straight.

Sunday (Day 581): Killing Of Piddly Projects

This was going to be a Sunday of getting random things done around the house. I glued a couple of chairs together because sometimes you need to extend the life of things a little bit longer than you expect. I wish I could say that I had broken from being used to tame lions or something, but they were cheap chairs and wore out on their own.

While the chairs set, I went to stare at the bathroom door to figure out why it won’t close all the way. After twenty minutes, the project was involving not only shaving down part of the door, but moving the latch a quarter of an inch. Because it had a high chance of mess and had an unknown chance of success, I dropped the project and moved on.

I grabbed a level, and leveled the fridge because it was so painfully out of square with the kitchen cabinets. A few twists of the ratchet, and I stopped twitching every time I walked through the kitchen. That done, I ran to the basement to see if I had any leftover weatherstripping to stop the cold breeze from constantly blowing under the basement door. I found some, but it was for door edges instead of the bottom. Rather than kluging together something that would fall apart in a few months, I decided to put a door sweep on my list for the next time I went to the local home megastore.

I was running at 50% failure rate, so when #1GF! suggested taking the Christmas tree down, I was all over it. Within fifteen minutes, that sucker was packed into a bin and stored in the attic for the next eleven months. That put my success rate on annoying issues at 60%, which may be a D, but it isn’t a fail.

This is week 83 of The Life of Riley, a weekly post detailing my activities since I ended a thirteen year career as a corporate drone. These posts are usually long, personal, and geared more for my own memory than the reader’s entertainment. This edition was a lost episode that was written later and back-posted just to keep the dates straight.

Sunday (Day 574): Board Game Test Runs

I made breakfast for #1GF! and found out that a friend of hers would be dropping by in an hour to see the house. We rushed to get showered and looking normal before she showed up, even though it was past the time when normal people would’ve been showered already. #1GF! expected me to act like it was an intrusion into our Sunday morning, so she said, “Well, you wanted to get a house by the beach so people would just drop by…”

“You’re right. I absolutely do,” I said. I just need to get in the habit of being ready for people to drop by. You know, like having some extra food on hand and not stinking like crazy.”

Her friend came over with her two year old, who I had never seen because I never really understood the whole “go over to the house and see the new baby” thing. #1GF!’s friend seemed to like the house (but what is she going to say, really?) and the two year old ran from room to room alternating between saying “Wow” and “Oh, man”. I was getting tired just watching him. They only stayed for a short amount of time, and headed back out leaving #1GF! and I alone. Once again the house felt empty.

#1GF! and I sat at the table and tested out a new (to me) Christmas game called Ticket to Ride. I have no tolerance for books, movies, or games that involve the 1800’s, but the reviews on the game were so good that I couldn’t resist asking for it for Christmas. Thankfully, the game had simple rules that got us up an running very quickly, and involved enough strategy to keep me interested. #1GF! and I both agreed that it was a surprisingly fun game.

This is week 82 of The Life of Riley, a weekly post detailing my activities since I ended a thirteen year career as a corporate drone. These posts are usually long, personal, and geared more for my own memory than the reader’s entertainment. This edition was a lost episode that was written later and back-posted just to keep the dates straight.

Sunday (Day 567): Yippie Kay Yay, Window Well

It snowed overnight, so I went out to shovel while #1GF! got dressed. She felt a little guilty about not helping, but there was only four inches of snow and it would’ve been a waste of time to have two people work on it.

I came in and showered to warm up, and then made breakfast. I had my cup of coffee and stared out the window and the snow. The storm had picked up a bit, and snow was flying by the window nearly horizontally. I guess ocean views do have a price.

When I went into the TV room, I was surprised to find #1GF! watching Die Hard on cable. I was even more surprised to find out that it was one of her favorite movies, considering it doesn’t star Sandra Bullock, Julia Roberts, or Susan Sarandon. I’m going to get in trouble for that last statement. I watched the movie with her, and ended up brushing my teeth at noon. Yippie kay yay, dental hygiene.

When the movie was over, I headed out to shovel a little more. An extra inch of slush had fallen, and we’ve learned the hard way that getting any water, frozen or otherwise, away from the house is a priority around here.

When I was done, #1GF! and I sat at the table and played Grass and then Target while boiling a chicken for a big pot of chicken soup. We had to stop the games so that I could spend some time tearing up the chicken. I’m convinced that tearing the chicken into small strings by hand makes the chicken soup taste better than cutting the chicken into chunks. I don’t know why or where this idea came from, but I do it every time.

This is week 81 of The Life of Riley, a weekly post detailing my activities since I ended a thirteen year career as a corporate drone. These posts are usually long, personal, and geared more for my own memory than the reader’s entertainment.. This edition was a lost episode that was written later and back-posted just to keep the dates straight.

Sunday (Day 560): Creme What Now?

All the shopping and work that filled the previous couple of days had me not wanting to move, so I lay in bed staring out at the water for a little while before getting up. #1GF! coaxed me into going out to breakfast, and I didn’t put up a fight because sometimes it’s nice to sit at someone else’s table drinking someone else’s coffee.

After breakfast, we headed for the outlet mall and then the regular mall to get some Christmas shopping done. The whole day vanished in a flurry of shopping, which, thanks to the internet, didn’t end when we got home.

Once I was good and burned out, I spent the night going through Cook’s Country and Cook’s Illustrated looking for a Christmas gift to bake for one of our friends who has a sweet tooth. If you’ve never read either magazine, they’re like Bon Apetit for people who don’t know what the fuck creme fraiche is, but don’t believe that recipes should be so dumbed down that they that start with a packet of soup mix or boxed ingredients.

The Life of Riley is a weekly post that details my activities since I ended a thirteen year career as a corporate drone. These posts are usually long, personal, and geared more for my own memory than the reader’s entertainment. This edition was a lost episode that was written later and back-posted just to keep the dates straight.

Sunday (Day 553): Digging Out The Christmas Decorations

With nothing hanging over our heads for the first time in weeks, we decided to spend our Sunday morning kicked back with a movie. We checked out This Film Is Not Yet Rated, a documentary that turned out to be a whole lot of fuss over nothing. I like conspiracy stories as much as the next nut, but spending a couple of hours trying to uncover the people behind the movie ratings system because ratings affect a movie’s distribution seemed like less of a David and Goliath effort than a way to pinpoint where to send the gifts to ensure a favorable rating in the future.

If the real goal is a desire to distribute your art, there’s a distribution channel called the internet that has been around for quite a while now. It’s come a long way from the Prodigy/CompuServe days to become an extremely wide, low cost method of distribution that allows people all over the world to pick up what you’re laying down.

Lots of people have used it to get them more fame than they deserved, but then what do I know about worldwide distribution of something that might not be highly rated or expertly created? I’m just a blogger who regularly runs up a quarter of a million page views for the extremely complex art of beard growing.

This is week 79 of The Life of Riley, a weekly post detailing my activities since I ended a thirteen year career as a corporate drone. These posts are usually long, personal, and geared more for my own memory than the reader’s entertainment. This edition was a lost episode that was written later and back-posted to keep the dates straight.

Sunday (Day 546): Network Goes Up, Water Goes Down

The first thing I did after I got up was punch down all the phone and network jacks. I didn’t consider it work because I like premise wiring. I don’t know why, but there’s something satisfying about the kachunk of a punchdown tool when it secures a wire in a jack.

Once all the jacks were done, I put the DVR on the wire to test for connectivity. Yes, a jack testing tool would be good for this sort of thing, but they get used so infrequently that I’ve never been able to justify purchasing one. I’ve always just used my worst PC as a jack tester.

Everything ran smoothly. There were no hiccups, no incorrectly punched down jacks, and no issues. Of course, because we have been living in the no TV, no phone, wake up at dawn, go to bed at dusk, grow a dangerous beard world over the last couple of weeks, the DVR suddenly being online sparked something in #1GF!. It was like I slid a tray of goulash under a starving prisoner’s door, and I wasn’t sure I liked the look I was getting. I left the room to admire my jacks.

“The updater isn’t working,” #1GF! called from the other room.

I walked back in. She was looking at me like she knew that the tray of goulash was made up of mostly sawdust. I was a little afraid, and slightly annoyed at being taken away from the loveliness of my new jacks. “Did you try it again?”