Heavy

Yesterday, I spent the day cleaning up the recent construction mess that littered my yard. I filled an entire 4 yard dumpster by myself (that is 4 cubic yards, or for those of you using the country measuring system, an assload of shit). Mostly, it was concrete blocks (or chunks thereof) that I was lifting. Fortunately, I was able to tap into my seething stockpile of anger to power my work; I'm not even really sore today. As I worked, I thought about things. I do that when I am involved in physical labor; while my body is engaged, I let my mind wander. Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about my future. Not because my present is sucky (while it isn’t exactly a carnival full of puppies and lollipops, I am fully aware it could be a LOT worse), but because I am trying to plot out the course of my life.
I hate making big decisions, because I am always analyzing everything to death: will I be happier with this, is this really the best deal, what if this is the better choice, and so on, and the fact that I can (and sometimes do) make bad choices simply eats me alive to the point where I just don’t know which way to turn sometimes. I am kind of like that guy’s ass. Not his buttocks, but his donkey. It’s some ancient Greek story or something, about a guy whose name I can’t remember, with an ass, and there’s two piles of hay, and the two piles of hay are the same size and equidistant from the ass, and the ass starves to death because it can’t decide which pile to eat first. I feel like that sometimes, except I know that when it comes down to the wire, I can make a choice with the same alacrity of Indiana Jones diving under a temple door at the last possible second. Sometimes I even manage to get my hat, too.
Anyway, I spent yesterday thinking about a couple of big things. I am at that time in my life where the temple door is closing on some potential choices. Like having a child, for example. Thinking about it yesterday, about having my own sweet baby, just made me smile so stupidly and filled my heart with so much joy it could have burst. There’s nothing else I can think of, not money, not fame, not achievements, not a relationship, that even comes close to making me as happy. So. That’s that. But because I want to be able to provide the best for my child, I think I need to finish my doctoral degree first. That way, I will be at the absolute top of my pay scale, and can eventually move on to a university position. That is one hurdle, although since the adoption process is so long, I am hoping to be able to concurrently run both of those paths. Another hurdle is that fact that I am a homosexual, and therefore the state I live in thinks I am inherently evil and unfit to raise a child, who would only be perverted by my mental disorder (Does that about cover all the bases, Anita Bryant?). So, I would have to find out what kind of options are open to me. Adoption isn’t cheap, either, but money can only do you good when you spend it, so that’s just a matter of accumulation to me (I think it would be tacky to put a baby on your Visa). But yeah, I’m going to do it.
As I thought about adopting, I realized that this means closing the door on ever having a relationship. Now, before you pee-pee it, and try to get all positive and reassuring on my ass, think about it: you are a single gay man. I am hairy, average height, balding, a bit chunky, with a baby. Not exactly the epitome of a sizzling sex-god in gaydom, now is it? I took a step back and realized that the odds of me finding someone whom I am attracted to, and who is attracted to me, shares the same values and wants the same things as I do, are astronomical. Life will be discovered on other planets before I come across someone like that. So, I decided to cope with it just like I do the lottery: I’m not playing. Why should I? It’s a waste of time, money, and energy. Sure, every once in a while, when I get a wild hair, I may give it a whirl. But I’ve only played the lottery like three times in the last 13 years, so I think you can see how my dance card is going to stay fairly clear until the end of time. But I am okay with that (see the whole “there’s nothing I can think of that would make me happier” bit above).
I am so stoked! See, even though I hate to make big decisions, I am totally fine once they are made. That’s because all of the potentialities collapse into one reality, and that is something I am adept at dealing with. Right now, I am looking at PhD programs. I plan to spend this summer finishing up the house, and then soon, I will be going off for my residency (I haven’t found a legitimate program yet that is totally distance learning). I am going to try and start the adoption process concurrently so that I can be Dr. Dad in one fell swoop. I am fully aware that life is what happens while you are making other plans. It’s just that, this time, I don’t intend to let it stop me.