My road to becoming a full blown Michigan fan continues as this week I attended Minnesota Michigan mens basketball. I’m not the biggest college hoops fan until the tournament rolls around but I had a chance to visit a new to me stadium and took it. My work friend who lives in Ann Arbor was in town so he was the catalyst but I was hooked the minute I looked up Williams Arena and learned it was built in 1927.
Hard to describe but this building looked every one of its 95 years old. I was sitting on a bench. A hard ass plank of wood with numbers painted on it. You get an actual chair a little lower in my section. There were the original porcelain troughs in the bathroom instead of urinals and I wanted to take a picture but it was dicks out everywhere and camera use is a definite mens room etiquette violation. The walk up to our seats would be best described as creepy. Let like a scene from an 80s horror flick meaning nothing good happens there after lights out. Glad I went, no need for a return trip.
This week in therapy: I feel like that should be a title of a permanent segment but it also seems like too deep a peek inside my skull so I think I’ll just keep sharing sporadically. Anyhow, this week in self improvement included me reaching out to each one of my children and asking how I can be a better dad. The question is tough when it comes out of nowhere but I did my homework and asked. As predicted I was one for three response wise but I will continue to change my survey method until I get an answer from each. This isn’t designed just to make me and them uncomfortable. Turns out I might be harboring a bit of guilt from moving away. Logically I know its what had to happen at the time but the brain can be a bastard.
I was served up a heaping helping of my work problems are mostly my fault and I will say that didn’t sit well (honest truth rarely does) but I needed to hear it. I had a talk with an old friend and mentor just this afternoon and he confirmed the diagnosis. Holy horseshit I hate being a work in progress at this stage in my life. And finally we landed on my avoidance of the social life thing. I tried to hide behind a paper thin excuse “I’m heading back to Illinois for Christmas…” Apparently, she hears this kind of excuse quite a bit as measured by the speed and severity of her response. And before you think I am not talking to a qualified professional, in the first couple of sessions we established that I need some things served cold and harsh especially if I am attempting to avoid the things I don’t want to talk about. The advice that stings help me the most. So I am going to get out there more…
Forced to commit to a date I have pledged progress by the second week in the new year. This social thing doesn’t necessarily mean dating it just means finding consistent ways to get out and interact with people away from work. Apologies to anyone suffering through this post but it is also part of my process. Written is real and if I’m going to make this work I have to write it down all over the place. Anyway, enough about my personal growth nonsense. How about a near stupid death experience.
I was walking back to my apartment and the janitor dude was riding his mop Zamboni. It’s like a riding mower had relations with a mopping Roomba and this is how our hallway floors get cleaned and dried at the same time. He was watching me walk and not paying attention to my neighbors pithy but against the rules hallway rug. He caught it just right so it flung out in my direction. Using my cowlike reflexes I leapt out of the way a little higher and a lot closer to the 100+ year old railing that surrounds my 9th floor death drop.
At least I’ll know what time it is just before I die…
With every sweat gland I own profusely leaking I staggered into my apartment. If I’m not going to go in my sleep as requested then something funny it must be. “he died from a nine story fall avoiding a flying and slightly moist welcome mat” That seems about right.