where the writers are
Expectations and Laments

My wife was lamenting our lives the other day. As I rant about things, she laments how we live. We don't eat healthy enough and we don't live the life she expected.

I know that feeling. Most of my life has not been what I expected.

When I joined the military, I didn't expect it to be a career. When I started writing, I didn't expect it to be so consuming and take me so long to establish myself. Hell, I'm still working on that.

As I was aging, I didn't expect myself to gain weight. I never expected to live in California or Oregon. Outside of the Oregon Trail, I was pretty ignorant of Oregon. It was just another state. 

I didn't expect to end up working for IBM from my home, and I didn't expect the economy to crash so heavily. I didn't expect politics to become so bitter, and I didn't expect a disease to find my wife. I didn't expect money to take so much precedence over solving true issues, like starvation, disease, intolerance, and inequality. I didn't expect so many people to be so fearful and let fear dictate their decisions and lives.

I didn't expect to spend so much time on computers and ranting about them, and I thought thinking about who I was and what I wanted would take a lot less time. I expected to live a joyful, happy and successful life. 

And I do, so there is one expectation meant. 

Yes, I whine, rant and complain. It all often seems relentless. I gripe about the treadmills and the bubbles. I enjoy the battles, though, whether it's to assert a software update over my computer, solve a technical problem, dealing with neighbors, cats, work, yardwork, politics, activism, the world's issues, or writing. My complains are a byproduct of trying. If I stop trying, I'll probably stop complaining. 

So I'll continue trying and complaining and foisting it off on the world in these blogs, which are  a tremendously useful release valve as well as a sketchpad for thinking. I would say a ThinkPad, but that happens to be the kind of laptop I'm using and it's giving me fits, interrupting my productivity - as is my work computer, also a ThinkPad - so there are bad associations with that term right now -

Ah, there I go, on another complaint.

At least I'm trying.