fortunately for me i have a dedicated team that runs the restaurant at a high level with or without me.
that is not by accident. i planned and worked for that outcome. i’ve spent many years trying to build a machine that runs whether i am standing beside it or standing in the next county. what good is a machine if it only runs efficiently when i walk by?
but well laid plans and good intentions do not always guarantee good results. however, i am fortunate because whatever i did seemed to work and i believe in the people who work for and with me, and i see they are all genuine, honest, and admirable people. they take pride in their job and they do their best like i do my best.
now that a personal crisis has come along, i am spending more time with mom and less time at work and the restaurant does not seem to suffer much and i feel confident about how things operate in my absence. i feel very thankful about this. so thankful indeed. so lucky. so blessed. so fortunate. so humbled.
today i picked up my sister from my favorite airport: GNV. i love it when i can park in the first space nearest the airport exit. it’s a much better parking space than i ever get at publix. what airport can you park a one minute walk from baggage claim? GNV that’s where.
it’s usually $1 to pick someone up in Gainesville Regional Airport. Yeah, a dollar. Today I got there too early so it was $2.
when you get to be my age, your main concern is how good you can sleep at night. some nights sleep comes and some nights it doesn’t. last night i could not sleep at all. i think it’s stress built up as a toxin in the muscles of my shoulders and neck that keeps me from sleeping. stress and anxiety from worrying about mom, and work, and mom, and kids, and mom, and work, and my own health….
it’s hard to imagine people luckier than me. i have so many advantages from the get-go. i’m a guy. white. with money. great family. job i love. doing what i love.
but that doesn’t mean it’s easy. it may well be easy but it feels hard sometimes. it’s just what you’re used to i guess.
i don’t know what i wanted to say here. i don’t know what i am trying to get across. i just want to write. to push the next post down the page.
speaking of the next post… i had quickly cut and pasted it from where i originally wrote it (on a site called medium…) and tonight i looked at it here for the first time and realized that the screen shot of my phone text had not copied over…. and that a bunch of random stuff from medium HAD copied over….. and so i fixed it here. it should look just as it did on medium.
i write more here than there these days but occasionally i post to both places. you see when i go to look at the list of things i have published there (on medium) i am impressed the list of writing is so long. i feel like i should post there too now and then so i can make that list of writings longer. readers of my writing may remember that i like stacking things up. lists of posts. stained glass windows. paintings. collage. podcasts. pizzas.
but i also write in a private journal so writing in one place is hard enough but writing different things for 3 places is more than i can make time for. so sometimes i may write there and copy it here also. or write here and copy it there. i have done both but last time, copying from there to here made for a sloppy copy. i like the sound of that. the sloppy copy.
i also sometimes write a menu back for some light reading on the back of the menus at my restaurant. that has slowed down to a near halt in the last few years. i guess because i am now mostly embarrassed by the concept of writing for the masses eating at a pizza joint. or writing for an internet blog for that matter. if i look back at any of my writing it seems dumb, too exposing of myself, often cliche, confusing and self absorbed.
how is it that i wish i wrote only for my own private binder but i publish these pages and pages online? where is the button to delete myself from the internet altogether forever? all my writings, pictures, videos and trail of breadcrumbs.
it’s just late and my day was busy and often stressful and i didn’t sleep last night and i’m tired and worried about a few things. worry is just part of my genetics. anxiety. it’s in my dna.
this blog should not be linked to my pizzeria homepage. maybe in the beginning it was ok, a link to show that the restaurant was connected with a real story and family in the community. a family business.
but now, 9 years later (from when i started writing here), this has become a personal journal that really doesn’t belong as a link for people looking up their local pizzeria. it’s just too much. too personal, too boring, too intimate, too much.
i’m tired. so tired. tired from my own personal struggles. tired of writing. tired of reaching out into a vast internet of strangers. tired of using words as my expression. tired of tossing and turning in my sleep. tired of trying so damn hard all the time.
but i’m not tired of feeling new things. not tired of thinking of new ideas. not tired of talking to strangers. not tired of painting and making things. not tired of pizza and not tired of people.
it’s sunday now. 30 minutes into this last day of my favorite month. january 31st. sunday. i love sundays. i love january. maybe tonight i will sleep for a change. maybe not. maybe. maybe not. maybe. maybe not. but maybe.