We went out to Texas Roadhouse for dinner tonight. On the way listened to “Steak” from the Madagascar Jr. soundtrack that we sang along to all summer when he was doing the show at Upright. I believe that a legitimate interest in eating actual steak stemmed from hearing that song repeatedly — and we quickly convinced one of them to try the steak from the kids menu — “Steak, it’s what I need!” It was met with a mixed reception. Maybe a tad too pink in the center.
I enjoy the building of the system, the collecting of the tools, the assembling of the pieces. But I am gripped by an inner vice on my soul that I cannot escape. It is something beyond A cat got your tongue. It is a paralysis of spirit—a barren flat plain where once stood a forest that teemed with ideas and thoughts and capability.
But I tagged this post “Hope for the future.” And the hope for me is that I would discover how to pick up the pen and the voice again. Even in the middle of the raging seas of suburban social and parenting life, to find a voice beyond the Dad Joke and the moment of levity, beyond the need to make those around me feel at ease and happy.
Also that I would continue to purse making a budget, which has recently reaaserted itself as a task of importance and interest. I had some attempts around a decade ago that centered on various Numbers spreadsheets, but this time I’ve found Actual Budget, which I’m self hosting, and is clicking for me so far.
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