jessteronimo

What Can I Say? I'm Really Busy

So, yeah, you probably noticed that I fell off the grid for a while. It isn't because I don't care about writing anymore. When people say, "I'm really busy," that can mean different things to different people. I've found that they don't often mean it the way I do. I mean it more than most.

For the last few months, I've essentially been working three jobs plus some side jobs--and I'm not getting paid for most of it. In fact, I'm paying for large parts of it. I have a full-time job that always promises to challenge and bewilder. We've had a harder year than usual, and I've been contending with problems and situations that tend to hyjack my daily work, which puts me into a lot of overtime. Then, in the late spring, my father's business experienced some significant challenges that he wasn't staffed to contend with and overcome, so I stepped in to help turn things around. It's been a real struggle, especially because it's long distance (he lives about 3 hours from me). I've found that it's damn near impossible to stop a speeding train without a crash, but it won't stop me from trying. I continue to teach and study karate for several hours three days a week. The classes are getting bigger, and the other instructors are getting flakier, which puts a strain on those of us who are there consistently. And I recently helped my sister's business with setting up some IT infrastructure when it moved offices, a process that didn't go as smoothly as I had hoped. And I've been helping various friends and family with other things that have popped up. I've been so busy, I didn't even notice when my domain name expired! That's crazy!

In short, I've been spending every waking moment working on something for someone else. It's more than old. I'm beat, fried. It needs to stop, and soon. Or I will simply fly apart.

Quid Pro Quo

A few months ago, my daughters schemed up a way to get stuff they wanted from their dad in exchange for stuff he wanted from them. (I was left out of this game, presumably because I get what I want out of them all--or maybe I'm just not around enough to play.)  The girls created coupons that could be redeemed when they saw fit. For example, one coupon says that they can start their schoolwork an hour later than normal. Dad has a balancing coupon that says they need to start an hour earlier. So if they cash in their hour later coupon, Dad can redeem his hour earlier one the next day. Or they can be unrelated. For example, the girl's coupon might say "Make me dinner" and Dad's might say "Go to bed early." And Dad has override abilities, of course, for when things are getting out of hand--or he brings Mom in--but they've all agreed to be reasonable and play by the rules to prevent discord and total anarchy. Well, I saw one of my youngest's coupons that she turned in, and it made me chuckle. It read: "Leave me alone!" I wonder what Dad's balancing coupon said!

Blues

Something in me changed recently. It's been coming on slowly, but I can definitely feel the winter blues sucking me down now. I was feeling pretty good at the first of the year, but a bunch of little things have started to weigh me down like those straws on the proverbial camel's back.  My resolve to reach my 2011 goals is slipping, and it's getting harder and harder to even care. One of the more significant problems is an injury to my ankle that I sustained when I rolled my foot while helping my sister move some furniture on New Year's Day. It didn't start hurting until a couple of hours later, but after a few weeks of getting slightly better each day, I reinjured it, and it's been downhill since then. My limited mobility, the constant pain, and the inconvenience of wearing stupid support braces is frustrating me more and more. The next big weight is the inevitable work crap I face daily--especially a bunch of big, crazy, and sometimes inexplicable IT problems. Every day I feel more behind, more frustrated, more tired, and further down in my spirits. I'm definitely sinking. If you know my family's history, you can understand why I'm more than a little scared of feeling like this. I sort of know what I need to do, but it takes time and energy I don't have--and a growing part of me doesn't want to fight back. Spring, please get here fast.

Who Needs Sleep?

For over a week now, I have been having trouble sleeping. I go to sleep all right, feeling my normal exhaustion level. But I wake up almost every day at ungodly hours like 3:24 a.m. (today) and 4:17 a.m. (yesterday). I try to get back to sleep using a number of techniques that have worked in the past, to no avail. After a while, I give up and get up to do something productive--like blog or exercise. I haven't been drinking caffeine, haven't altered any other part of my routines, or changed any of my habits. I can only chalk this one up to extreme stress over work issues. The big problem is that it's a vicious circle: If I don't get enough sleep, I'm either jumpy and irritable or I'm giddy and hyper; if I'm frazzled or worked up, I don't get enough sleep! I'm fed up. Gotta nip this in the bud double quick!

Field Sobriety Testing

You've probably seen a dozen pieces of videos of officers of the law giving field sobriety tests to people suspected of driving under the influence of drugs or alcohol. Trust me, those tests are a lot harder to administer--and to perform--than you think! I spent my weekend and Monday's holiday holed up in my office morning till night with a dozen other coworkers and local attorneys completing the training necessary to become qualified to administer the National Highway Traffic and Safety Association's standardized field sobriety tests. Why? you ask. Well, I work for criminal defense attorneys who focus mainly on DUI defense, and they wanted to have their entire staff trained so we know what to look for when reviewing our clients' cases. Very few in the legal profession have completed this training. My bosses are wise to provide that edge, if you ask me. So yes, now that I have passed both the written and practical exams for that course, I am every bit as qualified to give you a field sobriety test as that highway patrol trooper you pass on the road or your local gun-toting sheriff.

You probably haven't ever noticed the officer giving the test instructions when you've seen those videos, have you? The three scientifically validated standardized tests--the horizontal gaze nystagmus test (the eye test), the walk-and-turn test, and the one leg stand--are strict, complicated, and difficult to administer under controlled circumstances. I imagine things get a lot more complicated out on the streets, especially at night with uncooperative and sometimes violent suspects.

And taking those tests?! Many of us had trouble maintaining balance and following instructions exactly while acting as the subjects of the tests for other "cadets" learning the instructional process, and we were all stone-cold sober! I can't imagine doing them on the side of a road, in poor weather conditions, at night, on a busy road, in heels, and while intoxicated! No wonder so many people get arrested! It's true that people practice these tests and can become proficient at them even when drunk, but you can't "game" the HGN test because it's neurological, not physical. So beware, you drinkers out there.

They divided us into groups of three to practice giving the tests. I was lucky enough to be put into a group with two other highly motivated people who were smart and focused. Both were seasoned attorneys, so their experience helped me as well. We bonded really well, picked up the concepts quickly, and helped coach each other to proficiency. Other groups were not so fortunate, and parts of the days dragged as we waited for the others to catch up. At one point as we were waiting, my black belt status was revealed, and the male attorney in my group became intrigued and began asking me "what if I came at you like this" questions. He was a big, broad-shouldered guy. As he tried a few different attacks, I mock countered and showed him how I'd fight back. We were having a lot of fun with this activity when the main instructor walked in. We quickly got back on task, but the instructor, who has an extensive law enforcement background, was impressed and commented to me that he had recognized something in my movements and carriage that had suggested a law enforcement training background. "I would have pegged you for an ex-cop," he noted. It's amazing how much my karate training has influenced me. In fact, we have two ex-cops on staff, and the instructors initially thought I was one of them! Once again, I can't tell you how grateful I am for my martial arts training.

Anyway, while the experience was interesting and rewarding, giving up my weekend to this course was more challenging than I would have thought. I missed my family, I'm exhausted still, and I can't wait for Friday. But hey, at least now I have some cool party tricks to add to my repertoire, eh?

Then Cometh the Flood

The other day, Ben and I were watching a movie together on his iPad in our living room when my brother-in-law, who lives in our basement apartment, came dashing up the stairs and darted into our family bathroom. A few seconds later he came back out and informed us that our bathroom was flooding. Horrors! Apparently the handle had gotten stuck, so the valve wasn't closing off. The water overflowed from the tank onto the floor, and then, because there's a heater vent near the toilet, it started flowing into his bathroom downstairs. An hour and several towels later, we finally mopped up the last of the spill. By then, all soggy and exhausted, we'd lost interest in our movie and went to bed instead. Good times!

SuperMom

My daughter texted me while I was at work all frantic because she'd discovered that her laptop was broken. She said that it wouldn't close. I told her we could fix it, but she said that dad said it wasn't fixable and that she'd just have to leave it open. It was the most she's ever texted me, so I knew she was super upset [background sobbing was clearly evident]. When I got home, she showed me the laptop, and while she wasn't still sobbing, her big, sad puppy dog eyes broke my heart. The laptop plastic was munched, but it seemed fixable to me. So I got her to agree to surrender the beloved tool to me for a day. The place I would normally take it to has gone out of business, so I had planned to take it to a chain store I'd heard of, but it was quite far from my office. I decided to get some errands run first and go on my lunch break. But while I was out driving around, I saw a little sign that said this little hole-in-the-wall store repaired laptops. I did a U-turn and screeched into the parking lot, startling a group of hispanics who were smoking outside the back door. Sorry, guys. I took the laptop into this little, dark, freezing shop filled with dead and distressed computers and laptops and a wild assortment of computer parts--and hispanic men. No one was speaking English, and all the workers were helping one man, talking loudly and rapidly and with lots of animation. For a bit, I thought I might have been too hasty and ended up in the wrong place, but I was determined to help my daughter feel better. When the other customer left, I set my laptop on the counter and all the workers turned to me: group help, apparently. Gasps and tsks as they surveyed the damaged computer. My heart sank as they all switched to English and began explaining how the plastic piece that holds the screw that stabilizes the hinge for the cover was busted beyond repair. I could replace the whole bottom if a part could be found, but a quick search online ruled that option out. I was about to go, but then I saw the creative wheels start turning in these men's minds. They all started throwing out other options in this weird but cool brainstorm. I left the laptop with them, and two hours later they called me back to say they'd fixed it. When I picked it up, I was pleased to see that they'd come up with a duct-tape-esque but very functional solution to the problem: they loosed the hinge so the tension wasn't so tough on the monitor, then they put in a screw that was way too large for the hole--but still somewhat concealed so it wasn't unsightly--so the screw couldn't pull through, essentially making the entire back of the computer bear the weight of the hinge. Genius. Sheer genius. My daughter was ecstatic, and I was SuperMom. Thanks, Super Computers at 1381 S. Main St. in Salt Lake (801.759.8012).

She's Baaaaaaaack!

No, I didn't die. I've just been slacking here, but this is the only place I have been slacking. The rest of my world has been crazy busy. Mostly work stuff: hiring frenzy, massive server upgrade, big changes at my firm, yadda yadda. You don't really care why, huh? The point is, thanks in part to prodding from my dearest friend in the world, I'm resolved to get back here and do some good blogging. Huzzah!

Black, Baby!

On September 17th, I fulfilled a major dream of mine: I tested for and earned a black belt in Kenpo karate.

When I started studying Kenpo in 2006, I didn’t really have Black as a goal. I was looking for a cardio activity that would challenge my mind and body, and I wanted to learn how to defend myself. But after attending the AKKI camp in Las Vegas a few months into my training and seeing how the other black belts in the AKKI system moved, I was inspired to set a goal of becoming a black belt. I knew it would be hard work and require a lot of dedication, but it still surprised me how hard it was. Although I love it, martial arts doesn't come as naturally to me as it does to some I know, so I've had to work harder than some to gain the skills, and I have a lot left to learn. Over the four years I've studied the art, I missed class only a few times a year, regularly picked the brains of and tried to mimic superior artists and instructors, practiced mentally and physically almost constantly, taught other students for the last two years, and participated in as many extra seminars as I could. My dear family has been incredibly patient with my frequent absences, and I've felt the support of family and friends all along the journey. There's no other way I would have been able to test in every camp since that first one, which allowed me to gain a new belt roughly every six months.

I overcame my fears and many obstacles to attain this goal, including pushing through a couple of pretty wicked burnout periods and battling health issues. Was it worth it? You better believe it! Ben keeps teasing me that I will "rank and run," a phrase coined for a common phenomenon when people achieve the black belt status and then soon quit studying martial arts. But he knows I'm too addicted now to ever do that. Besides, this is only the beginning of my journey. I still have so much to learn! I'm incredibly lucky to have such great instructors, including Mr. Ryan Wheaton, Mr. Shawn Gough, Mr. George Thomsen, and of course the living legend, AKKI founder Mr. Paul Mills. My sincerest thanks to these fine gentlemen and to my other instructors and fellow students in the art. It's been a real pleasure so far!

Tribute to RB

Today is the 15th anniversary of the day we laid my mother to rest, thus losing the privilege of her loving embrace and warm, enthusiastic smile. The thought is as impossible today as it was those many years ago, and I suspect it always will be. Some of us are having more trouble with the grieving this year than others, and my heart aches for us all. I do what I can to ease our pains, but grief is a lonely business.

To those who have lost loved ones and those who are losing them now, I am ever so sorry and pray that your fears and pains will ease soon.

To those who knew Robbie, raise a glass of your favorite drink (mine is her mug filled with mint hot chocolate) and remember her this day!