Dear Diary,
I’m in love! And this isn’t some run-of-the-mill crush. I mean I am head over heels in love! But while ordinarily this would be something to be celebrated, unfortunately for me it comes with conflict and turmoil. Perhaps that isn’t that uncommon though. You see, my problem is that I have not just one love, but three. My love for each of them pulls me in three different directions at once, and I’m afraid that it won’t be long before I begin to tear. I want to give each of them the time, care, and devotion that they deserve, but find it increasingly hard to do so. I am, after all, only one man. But this weekend, Diary, I tried a new strategy. My new work schedule affords me a three day weekend every week, and so I decided to commit one full day to each of my loves.
The first day I would fully devote to the only one that I am contractually and legally obligated to love, my wife. But my love for Mrs Digdug goes beyond legal formalities. For some unknowable reason, she puts up with me even at my worst, and she inspires me to try to be my best. On this Friday, I was determined to accomplish the latter. Our house has been under a constant state of renovation since we bought, and lately our efforts have been focused on the kitchen. In order to save money, I would attempt to do some plumbing so Mrs Digdug could have a somewhat operational kitchen again. And to be quite honest, I was nervous. Projects like this have been a source of frustration in the past, and understandably Mrs Digdug doesn’t like it when her husband throws a temper tantrum. Thankfully it would not come to that, and not a single tool would be thrown in anger. However, it did come to about 27 trips driving back and forth across town to the hardware store. The cashiers would burst into laughter as I approached the register. “What did you do wrong this time?” they would ask. But despite their lack of faith in me, the faith of Mrs Digdug never waivered. My love would stand beside me through it all, and her faith would be rewarded. We now have an operational and (for now) leak-free sink. Pulled in one less direction, I still had two more loves calling me.
Much like Friday, Saturday would be a day full of driving back and forth across town for my love. That alone should prove my love because Hutchinson, KS is not exactly a breathtaking spectacle unless you love the haunting beauty of closed businesses and the adventure of swerving around countless potholes. I can tell you that the liquor industry seems to be thriving though. People need their booze. But I digress. Diary, perhaps I should be clear that the next love of my life isn’t exactly one person. Rather, my love is to serve and help people. Mrs Digdug and I know a couple that has been going through some struggles, including medical problems, but they needed to move out of their apartment by this weekend. There was a lot of stuff and only a few of us, but just as Mrs Digdug had faith in me the day before, we had faith we could get the job done. And also like Friday, that faith was rewarded with the good feeling of helping a neighbor in need. I was also rewarded with this piece of advice that I will selflessly share with you, Diary. When other people are helping you move, be sure to handle any of your….intimate items….yourself. Hiding them in the bottom of a box and letting someone else carry them is not an acceptable alternative. Because sometimes boxes break open. And the result might emotionally scar the person who so kindly offered to help you move. So always handle your own...intimate items. But regardless, now I that I had taken care of two of my loves (and had an unwanted image burned into my brain), I had one last day and one more love calling my name.
It may have been the last day of the weekend, but Sunday was dedicated to the first love of my life. Football. It is a love that many may not understand, but many more do. I love football, and specifically the Kansas City Chiefs. It was a rivalry weekend with the hated Denver Broncos in town, and the anticipation caused me to wake up an hour earlier than normal. I donned my red and yellow zebra-striped pants as well as my lucky Chiefs sweater. I try not to be selfish in my relationships, and my relationships with the Chiefs is no exception. I have given the Chiefs my sweat, my tears, my voice, and frankly a few years off my life during those extra stressful games. Even though they have let me down a number of times, I have kept faith in them just as Mrs Digdug and others kept faith in me earlier this weekend. And for the third time in three days, that faith would be rewarded, this time with a Chiefs win over a division rival. I will say, diary, that being in love certainly makes for a demanding weekend. But at the end of it all, the only thing calling me is a good night’s sleep.
Yours Truly,
Jordan “Digdug” Schrag
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