Friday, June 26, 2020

Since 2020 sucks, we decided to step up the adulting

We are 102 days into COVID quarantine, otherwise known as: Today's date is March 118th, 2020. 

Might as well do some next-level adulting. So we are: 

1. Refinancing our mortgage
2. Drawing up Will and Trust
3. Investing in Solar Energy

We already: 

1. Got our house's foundation seismically retrofitted in accordance (and then some) with the EBB (Earthquake Brace and Bolt) program in February
2. Got rid of those kid bunk beds and put in new twin beds for our daughters, painted and re-arranged their room in accordance to the times (and new decade which, so far, sucks). 
3. Painted the living room (finally, after 11 years of owning this place)
4. Invested in back yard furniture and an inflatable pool to give the kids an outlet during this crisis

I remain alcohol free. 10 months in, with August 13th the year mark. I do not crave alcohol at all at this time. I've learned to live without it, and I am not yearning for the old days. When the bars do open, I'm going to find one where one of my favorite bartenders from years past is tending bar, sit there a while, catch up on things, order some seltzer and lime and give a $20 tip. This is not part of a 12 step program, for the record. I haven't worked the steps. Formally, at least.

It's amazing how much you save when you don't travel for a while. Or drink. After decades of terrible revolving debt, we're officially out of it. Some of this is due to some career luck and fortune. Some of it consistent, hard work. Or meaningful work, at any rate. Smart work, maybe? A combination therein, depending on the time of year. If you deliver and exceed expectations in your work, but personally feel like it doesn't feel like you're working hard enough, is that something to be ashamed of? There are a lot of people out there out of work now. We're doing what we can to help out. Anyway, I can't always claim that my career trajectory has been one of deliberate planning, of specific goal setting, or really, knowing any kind of design at all other than seeing the opportunity that presented itself and seizing it, then living up to it.

I'm comfortable enough with myself to know how lucky and privileged my life has been in so many ways. Not inherited, certainly - I started from somewhere and worked my way to where I'm at now, I wasn't handed anything without having to prove my worth. What I mean is there haven't been barriers and I need to acknowledge that and do everything in my power now, such as I have it, to make sure I am not putting up any barriers of any kind to others. 

I'm not sure why I'm speaking in platitudes, it kind of feels like I am today. As being 50 is sinking in, I'm realizing that the things I'm out to go and get are not for myself, but for my family. And who I'm trying to be is someone to set an example as someone I aspire to be. Calm, mild mannered, friendly, judicious, generous, easy going, but fair, tough when I have to be. 

More platitudes. And I probably rarely present as most of those things to which I aspire. 

Much has been written in this digital life, in the small character spaces, about what's fucked up right now. I'll share those thoughts for those spaces, and keep this place for the the rest of the story (Paul Harvey RIP). Paul is certainly from another time. Speaking of which...

My dad just turned 93 on Sunday. I don't think anyone, including him, thought he'd be around this long. I'd been ruminating that if Olivia were to reach that age, it would be the year 2100. I can't help but look ahead now. But in doing so, it's fun to make comparisons from the past. When my dad was my age, the year was 1977. My mom, 1985. Grandparents: 1945, 1958 (x2), 1960. Great Grandpa Swan? Would have been 1909 but he didn't make it.

One of the things about being in a family where the men have kids later than usual is that, I think, counterintuitively, it tends to prolong your life. Or maybe there is something in your body clock or rhythm that already know this and your life sort of plays out accordingly. I'd be surprised if I don't make it to 80. Or I won't, because I'll be dead. But 93? I think I've had too much to drink in my life for all of that already. Then again, there is my mom, who drank a lot more than I ever have, and for a much longer period, and smoked (I've never smoked). She's 84. For a time I used those habits to inform my own - fatty liver? I'm fine. I'm sure my mom has that. High blood pressure? My folks are still kicking and they've had that. 

But then other things caught up. I think it was a mid life crisis. It's past now, and I'm looking ahead. When Olivia turns 50 it will be the year 2057. Brenna, 2060. Will I be around by then? Maybe. See #2 above. All of that's just a signature away now, and then Kiera and I don't have to worry about all of that. 

What to call this phenomenon other than next-level adulting? Grandulting? 


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