When I’m at home, I rarely eat. Food preparation involves all sorts of thinking, standing, monitoring… it’s exhausting just thinking about it, and I reject it outright. I’ll order delivery or graze endlessly until I’ve had my fill, which is usually when my stomach stops hurting. The point is, eating is often seen as an annoyance to me.

But when I’m on set, it’s a whole new ballgame. Yesterday I ate 4 different kinds of animals. I had a bacon and egg croissant sandwich for breakfast, a leg of lamb and fried chicken for lunch, and some ground beef sloppy joes around dinner. In between there was leek potato and corn chowder with homemade oyster crackers, strawberry and chocolate crepes made to order, and stacks of chips, dips, pretzels, and twists. They also had Red Vines.

Major movies cost 100 Million dollars or more to make. This is a reason. A delicious, delicious reason. As a member of the Entertainment Industry, allow me to apologize for rising ticket prices at the Box Office and the outrageous cost of Junior Mints at the concession stand.

If it’s any consolation, I heard we’re having Crab Legs tomorrow.

I’ve had a lot of odd jobs in my life.

I’ve been a caddy, a grocery bagger, a water ski instructor, an assistant tennis pro (only for a week once they realized I’d never played tennis before in my life), a delivery truck worker, a suit salesman, a copy writer, an internet advertising salesman, a waiter, a caterer, a receptionist, an assistant, a voice over artist, a disc jockey, a news anchor, a fur salon clerk, a stockboy, and I once worked at a gas station.

Tomorrow I’ll be a spaceman.

While in between larger projects, I have been presented with a unique opportunity. It’s kind of a lifelong dream, and I’m giddy as hell about it. You see, I’m a dork. A big one. There’s a certain science fiction franchise that I know more about than I will ever admit in public. Over lunch I signed a confidentiality agreement so I can talk about it even less, but you get what I mean, right?

(In SPACE!)

While I just finished doing a little work as a cowboy, which was great, now I get to be a Spaceman… in SPACE! Hours ago I went to the “recruitment office” and was fitted with my uniform. Now, I realize that I witnessed the birth of my firstborn child 16 days ago, but trying on this uniform was one of the coolest experiences I’ve ever had in my life. As a dork, I have always ALWAYS wanted to wear one of these. As a closeted dork, I could never bring myself to doing it. What am I going to do, order some rags on eBay and sit around on the couch wearing plastic ears while watching a Kate Mulgrew or Scott Bakula vehicle? Bitch, please. However, to be in the real thing, walking around the decks of the most famous spaceship ever? Getting to sway and dive at torpedo attacks while inquisitively raising an eyebrow? Pointy sideburns?! This is so exciting I can barely contain myself. THE Joe Moran called it my World Series, referring to his own experience as a beer vendor at US Cellular field for the entire 2005 season. While I think his experience was a little cooler, he may be on to something. There’s going to be no living with me for the next few weeks.

Exist for a long time and make money, or something to that effect.

I am home from work in “preparation” for the baby. What that has meant so far has been an inability to sleep in and downshift from my previous “work mode” pace. Normally this would translate to all sorts of cleaning and organizing at home. So far it’s been a lot of video games.

(And avoiding carpal tunnel.)

Unfortunately, it looks like I’m past the last mini-boss and moving on to the finale. Work was the last thing standing in the way between me and daddy world. I’m not scared, it’s just that up until yesterday it was all happening “after work.” I just needed to get through a few more weeks on the clock, then I could focus on all of that shit that’s coming afterward. Well, work is over. I no longer have that to run away to (or run from). I don’t have to think about anything else besides the Redhead, little Baby Girl Blogs, and ridding Skyrim of pesky dragons. Rise and fall, pesky dragons.

There are, of course, just a few more things to take care of: packing for the hospital, getting a baby monitor, and ridding my cabinet of rum. I’m not a rum guy, but over the years people have brought plenty of bottles over to my house and left them, seemingly in their own bid to ditch the suntan lotion flavored bile they had been stuck with themselves. We could use the cabinet space, and I for one will not start my tenure into parenthood denying my wife and daughter ample storage.

Drinking and video games: the pre-father’s best friends. Just let me have this for a bit, world. I’m bound for better days.

There comes a time when things get too busy to wax intellectual on the internet about strollers and whiskey. That time is currently now. Bear with us at Tuckerblogs.com as we secure our financial future for the next few days. I may pop in, but it will be sporadic and seemingly erratic.

Also, this is a big test because Boss Lady says she’s been reading this and I know she isn’t. See this one, Boss Lady? Hard at work over here! Grinding away and staying on target! By the way, Junxion Boxes have been discontinued. MiFi is the way to go. Also, Steve called.

Back to work….

Normally at work I’m running around like a lunatic, fielding over 200 phone calls a day, 300 emails, and jumping when called by any one of 8 different people who will yell my name randomly. That’s the normal pace.

Lately, though, it’s picked up significant steam. This morning there were 3 people waiting at my desk to scream relatively unimportant stuff at me that they felt were the most important tasks of the day. They had also not worked out a priority order amongst themselves, resulting in all 3 arguing with me and each other about what I needed to be doing at that second. Like most mornings, I didn’t even have the chance to leave my desk to get some coffee. Now it’s nearly lunchtime, and while the pace has subsided slightly, everybody else in the bullpen is out on missions, leaving me the only one here and once again, unable to leave my desk to get some coffee.

It’s probably for the best, since bathroom breaks are just as laughable of a possibility. The weekend was a blur and the work week has already squashed my soul. Still…. 5 weeks to go. 5 weeks (and one of them is the abbreviated Thanksgiving week!) and then I’m on Paid Family Leave or Paternity or whatever. Then the kid shows up. Then I’ll finally be able to relax, right?

If I had to describe my work performance I would say that while I can occasionally impress, overall I’m rather sub par. This may not be accurate, but it’s my perception. I spend most days expecting the hammer to drop and for my tenure here to be over. I didn’t say I fear it, I said I expect it.

(I have much more important ways to spend my days, anyway.)

If there’s one thing that I’m seriously lacking in lately, it’s confidence. I am a man who trusts his instincts and little else. Lately, my instincts have been telling me that, simply put, I suck.

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This morning I was awake at 5 AM to prepare for an especially busy day at work. When you’re up that early, you don’t expect a lot of activity on the streets. That would be a correct expectation. What you may not expect is that it will be colder and somehow darker than it was at 11:30 PM the night before.

Bleary eyed, barely moving, yet oddly fascinated by the pre-dawn aura in the air, I arrived at the office before the sun had risen, having watched it set yesterday from my desk. Today will be interesting.

Tomorrow will be worse.

So… this is not going to be icky, trust me. There’s this weird thing that happens in the office bathroom— wait, hold on.

NO. This is not about that. This is about the toilet itself. You see, the toilets here have these automatic flushers, like most office building in ‘Merica now. These automatic flushers are giving it their all when it comes to a work ethic. While you’re sitting there not moving, it’ll flush 5 times, letting everyone in the office believe you’re having some MAJOR issues in the bathroom. 

I will not be inappropriate.

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