If I Were My Wife, I Would Hate Me
I got up this morning and I was depressed. <p>
I recently applied for a job in Shetland and I have jerked myself back and forth ever since about whether I should take the job or not.  Of course, I haven't heard back yet from the HR folks, but it is a bit early for that, along with being a bit early to be making all these interesting plans as if I have already been offered the job!<p>
So, the roller coaster ride begins.  I get happy and excited about a new challenge.  I get down because it might not happen.  I get happy and excited that it has every chance of happening!  I get down because it seems like the problem might be with the UK Border Office and I don't want to mess with that.  I get happy because stupider people than me do this everyday and they get through the Border Office gauntlet successfully.  I get down because my research tells me that my son Matt is too old and I see no way that they will let him in the country.  On and on I go with the roller coaster ride and my poor wife Lisa must just want to run away sometimes and find more stable people to live with.<p>
I need to remind myself to thank Lisa for putting up with me.  I think I already did.  Numerous times.  This morning.<p>
However, I think that it would be a nice gesture to actually not force her onto the Jason Nemrow Ride-O-Insanity so often.  Just to be a little kinder.<p>
Of course, I wouldn't be this creative and philosophical nutcase if I didn't do the roller-coaster and I wouldn't be as entertaining to everyone.  I must say that even Lisa laughed at my travails this morning, so the humor value must make up somewhat for the whiplash!<p>
Oh, the agony!!