ROE INTENSE

I clocked myself in to the dispatch computer. The restaurant was hopping. Customer service gals milled about. The Warrior churned out pizzas. Micho was being all manager-ish. I turned from the computer toward my lockbox. I had a significant amount of money and receipts to drop in from my pocketI slid the receipts in first. The simple thermal paper folds like a razor. No problem. Next, a couple bills. They went in fine. The final wad of cash crumpled as I tried to insert it. It was mushy. Damp. Like a half-dried paper towel after you’ve wiped off the counter. “Why is this so wet?” I asked myself. I remembered immediately. It was gross. Cue the memory swirl! It was earlier that evening. I got out of my dented car with a warm bag of pizzas. I was on time. The house was unmarked. It had a chain-link fence, long grass and a broken screen door through which I could see the entryway. A woman appeared at the screen door just as I lifted the latch to their gate. Her eyes went wide as she ...

I know for a fact I’ve mentioned this before: I want to give like no one else. That’s why I want to get out of debt. That’s why I want to sacrifice those things everyone thinks I “need” in order to “live” right now. I do it so that, later on,  I want to give most of my lifestyle away, and still whisk Amazewife off to a beach somewhere every couple of months. This dream was rekindled tonight, but I have to preface the story. My family and I went to see Inside Out for my birthday on the 4th. It was a lot of fun. Most of the movie takes place in the thought processes of an 11 year old girl. Her emotions are the main characters. In fact, everyone’s emotions are characters of some kind. During one part of the movie, Sadness and Joy have gotten lost. They try to find their way back. They find a long lost imaginary friend of the girl’s during their efforts. This friend leads them through a helpful “short cut” to a magical part of the girl’s mind called Imagination Land. This land is fu...

520 days ago today, Payton Benson, 5, caught a bullet through one of her walls while she was eating breakfast . That bullet was one of 20 fired by three gunmen more than a city block away from that baby's home. She died at the hospital.   That baby's home was 15 blocks from our home. The neighborhood wherein this beautiful baby died is not quite distant, but not quite close to us. Ruth was five at the time as well. The pain was still real. We felt for those parents. We hugged the Princesses close and said prayers for the family. Then gunshots peeled out from less than a block away from our home. It was a cold night. Ruth was up late. She was worried about something. She had been up too late reading and needed help getting back to sleep. "Can you sing me a song, Daddy?" she asked. She climbed too slowly up the ladder to her top bunk, but she made it. I sang to her and we chatted. We discussed what she was reading. We discussed why it was important to go to...

I've been chewing on this one for a long time. My blog is meant to inspire and uplift - and possibly entertain - as I catalogue my journey to being debt free. My wife is affected so much in this, just like me. I can't help but listen to what she says and what other mothers say as they struggle day to day. First, I should explain the attention-pillaging title. Mom Guilt is a term coined by many, many circles. But I don't think its guilt. I do not believe "mommy guilt" is an accurate description of what you wonderful women experience. You give birth to a wonderful, new, engaging, demanding, beautiful child. You rear that child for a few short weeks or months. Then, 'x' happens: You find out you can't breastfeed, or you struggle so much your nipples bleed. You return to the workforce. You struggle to meet the needs of older children. You can't get your kids into every activity you'd like (again, if you have older children). You learn that...

I turned right onto an East Omaha street. Kids were out playing. Parents yelled at them from their porches. My destination was on the right. I pulled over and parked. It was a weird order: a single pan pizza and a two liter of orange diabeetus juice. I hopped out of the car and made my way to the door. The customer was there to greet me. “How are you, ma’am?” I asked. “Oh, not so good,” she said. Her speech was slurred and she seemed tired. “Not so good?” “Yeah. When you’re on 18 different medications, you’re not so good,” she said. I handed her the clipboard. “18 different medications? Yeah, I can see why that would take it out of you,” I said. Her hands had a slight tremble as she signed. “Yep, I’ve got hypertension, relaxed tension, triglycerides, diabetes, triabetes, quadribetes, LDL sadness, slipped discs-“ She kept signing and kept listing. I readied the two-liter. I saw a diabetic bracelet around her wrist. I took the clipboard back and handed he...

I arrived late last night to my shift because of a Wi-Fi build-out for a new customer at job #1. I grabbed my first receipt. The name on the receipt was Hispanic, but just close enough to English to be a possible typo. Michoacana took the initial order. I asked her if the customer spoke Spanish or English. “Spanish,” she clarified. I nodded. I grabbed the order and some condiments and I left. As I approached the home of this person, something came into view. It was large. It moved and shifted in a mass of arms and legs. It was alive. Very much alive. It was bigger than my car and fast. I wondered what it would take to get through it. As I got even closer, I realized I was in no immediate danger. It was a mass of a dozen or more children playing around the very apartment I was headed to. I got out of my car with the pizzas. The kids raised their voices is a chorus of shouts. “The pizza is here! Hi pizza!” One kid sat by the driveway to a small parking lot. He straddled a bike and ...

I puttered all four-and-a-half cylinders of Taurus muscle down the street and thought, “I haven’t posted a new blog post in a while.” Because I haven’t delivered in a week. Last week was Mega Week. Mega Week is something’. Mother’s Day, our Anniversary and Meredith’s Birthday all fall within it. We had a blast. I took Friday off to take Meredith dancing and eat Localmotive . I could still smell the rounders and frites from that awesome food truck as I hit my turn signal on my way back to the store. It click-clacked back and forth and I thought of something else. I had forgotten to pray. I pulled off my hat. “Lord,” I started. I noted the time of evening. “Sorry for not praying sooner. Help me to have a good night. Please bless my wife and girls. I’m going to sit and watch for something to write about. It’s been a while. Thanks for the chance.” Time passed. It was a great night. Large tips and quick deliveries made for a smooth evening. I saw fun things, met fun people, but nothin...