Today is a huge day. No, not because it's the rubber-game in a three-game series between the Angels & Mariners; not because I may end up envoking the "tradition" clause tonight; and not because we're finally getting the dying shrubbery in our front yard taken care of by a professional. It's a vitally important day because today, after over a month of waiting, Kristin goes to interview for a slot in the University of Washington's Executive-MBA program. Her application passed the first test, the rest is on her. No pressure.
While the title of this post may seem a bit melodramatic, I assure you it isn't. My whole life has been building towards this moment. Stop rolling your eyes right this second, I'm not speaking in hyperbole or being facetious, I'm as serious as a Robert Horry hip-check on this. For years I have strained under the intense pressure of being our family's primary income earner. The effort it takes to churn out enough copy about videogames to out-earn someone in Kristin's profession is staggering and it's taking its toll on my body, my mind, and I believe even my Chi is starting to come up lame. Kristin is a succesful member of the upper crust in a Seattle biotech company. Do you even know what biotech is? That's a combination of biology and technology -- working in a place like that requires knowledge of two topics. Not just one like all those physicist geeks, but two. And yet still, thanks to a tradition passed on by a long line of Walshes, I made certain to provide even more for my little blue-eyed sweety than she could possibly earn on her own. Heck, just last year my W-2 showed I made a whopping $554 more than hers. You know what you could buy with $554? A lot. Yeah, that's right. So, if I didn't feel the pressure to work as hard as I do, there'd be a lot my sweety couldn't have. But it's all right because the man's got to do what the man's got to do. Or is that what's good for the goose... No, that's not it. Anyway, that's the way I've been rolling. You get the idea.
But I've had it. I want a sugar-momma. While my father continues to wear the Honorary Ward Cleaver Badge of Sole Income Providership proudly on his lapel, I want out. I want to be Mr. Mom... but without the kids. I want to spend my days sipping lattes, whiling away the hours running complex statistical analyses on my fantasy baseball team, and sending angry letters to Congress on high-brow topics such as why the Halo series is as guilty as American Idol for ruining entertainment in America.
Don't get me wrong, I'll still work. Maybe not everyday, but at least a little bit every week; after all I'm not a bum and I do have plans. And the implementation of these plans requires a free, unburdened, creative lifestyle. It's hard to be creative and effective when tied to the stress of a full-time "normal" job. Sony's marketing department has proven this on a weekly basis for nearly a year now. I rest my case.
You see, I have several book ideas that I would love to get underway; I want to get more serious about my photography and do more shows; and heck, I want more time to ride my bikes dammit! After all, don't I deserve it? I've written nearly 60 strategy guides in the past 7 years. Sixty! Five dozen! You know how many five dozen is? It's a lot more than a baker's dozen, I'll tell you that much. And people are always raving about getting a baker's dozen. I piss all over your thirteenth muffin. I'm accomplished. I work hard. I have put my time in and, by golly, [some] people like me.
Isn't it time I caught a break? Isn't it time Kristin pulled her weight a little more? Sure, I can continue to work myself silly 8 months of the year to keep that extra $554 rolling in all gravy-like, but sometimes I just have to sit back and ask myself, "Doug, don't you deserve more?". I think I do. And it's up to the University of Washington to agree with me. My life depends on it.
Sure, I'll continue pulling myself out of bed by the ungodly hour of 10am every morning if I have to, but I'm not going to like it. And I'll even work straight till 2 o'clock before taking a two hour lunch. I don't want to keep doing this, but it's out of my hands. In more ways than one. The conspiracy theorist in me expects Kristin to take a dive during the interview -- she'll probably tell that joke about the gay stamp-collecting Senator with a Viagra addiction. Either that or she'll wear that dress with the see-through top. If she does that, it's back to the strategy-guide grind for another six years. But I pray she does what's right. I've been shouldering this load far too long. She's petite, I'll give her that, but she's strong. And in this day and age a strong woman can accomplish a lot. Hey, after all, I'm liberated. I don't mind gay marriage. I'll help save the whales if you need me to. And when it comes to women, I have no problem letting the door shut in their face if they prefer it. I don't need to hold it open. Just like I don't need to earn more. Or anything if it makes her feel better. That's what it's really about. I think some people are going to read this post and think that I'm lazy or that I'm just looking for a free ride. That's not it at all...
Okay, yeah it is. That's exactly it. I'd elaborate more, but I have to really try and get at least an hour's work done today.
Sucks, I know.