Bonus “Test” 1: JSG Needs a Hobby!
Unless Eating Ice Cream Counts as a Hobby, In Which Case I'm Covered
Howdy, everyone. How was your weekend? Yeah? You do anything fun? Ah, that’s cool. Sometimes you need a weekend like that. Well cool! Right on. Happy to hear it.
How was my weekend? Oh, it was horrible. Thank you for asking!
It didn’t actually start horribly, mind you. I got a lot of cleaning done on Saturday, including a carpet shampoo that we desperately needed. Our older dog thinks she’s doing us a favor by not waking us up when she needs to go out, which is sort of sweet of her. Sort of!
Anyway, it was going fine up until yesterday. That’s when I lost my fucking mind over fantasy football, of all things. Fantasy football, in case you don’t know, is essentially a gambling-type game where you pick teams made up of real players and, most often, win or lose each week depending on how they played in real life. That’s the short version, anyway. At its best, it’s a fun diversion that enhances the enjoyment of real games. Normally, it’d be hard to care about games between bad teams you aren’t a fan of … but if you’re banking on 11 points from James Conner to pull out a win, suddenly the Cardinals game is pretty important! Plus you can win money! Usually it costs a nominal amount to play, but you can win 10x that amount if you come out on top. That’s to say nothing of the social element, the competition, and so forth. That’s what it’s like at its best.
At its worst, you have the weekend I had.
See, my team is about to be 1-3 on the season. I’ve had some bad injury luck, but that’s still good for nearly last place out of 12 teams. How’d I do in that league last year? I came in … last. That’s now two years in a row my team has been terrible, and even though two seasons isn’t a long time on paper, it takes place over the course of a full year plus. And when it’s a league with some of your oldest friends? It starting to eat away at me. I’m not kidding when I say I thought about crashing my car into something yesterday. I cannot stand the thought that I’m bad at fantasy football, and I can’t stand the thought that my season is basically already over because I drafted poorly, and I’m internalizing all of that negativity in a way that impacts my self-worth.
Like I said, it was a horrible weekend.
I care so much about being successful in fantasy football because I’ve spent so much time over the years playing it. Some years, I’ve been in as many as five leagues. This year … well, it was two, but I ragequit the reddit league I was in yesterday because I’m also about to be 1-3 in it. (And that league doesn’t really matter.) I’ve been playing fantasy sports in general since I was in high school, starting with NCAA bracket challenges and progressing from there. For whatever reason, I take a lot of pride in my ability to do well at fantasy sports. I suppose it’s because it’s analytical, which is sort of the main skill in my job. I also suppose it’s because doing well at anything feels better than doing poorly, especially when that thing has — for better or worse — defined you. While I was melting down, a thought crossed my mind, and I haven’t been able to shake it ever since:
What the fuck am I doing with my life?
Not necessarily in the career or existential senses, exactly. It’s more like “What am I doing with my free time?” What are my hobbies? Fantasy sports is one, sure. Video games is another. Cooking, yes, that counts. I suppose so does writing. Oh, before I forget:
But beyond that, I’m struggling to think of any. More to the point, who are my friends? I have a couple in that fantasy league (who I spent the weekend melting down to via text — sorry, guys). I have a few more in my life that I keep tabs on from time to time. And I don’t think there’s anything wrong with having a few quality friends instead of a large quantity of lesser ones. But I think there’s something to be said for having friends you see more than once every few years, and in that department I am sorely lacking.
I mean that literally: I hadn’t seen Edberg and Jarmlee (names randomized for my amusement) in roughly two years up until we got together to — what else? — watch football a few weekends ago. The time before that was at the fantasy draft … in 2021. The time before that? I genuinely couldn’t tell you. You know how you see memes about guys hanging out with “the boys?” I don’t have “the boys.” I don’t have “the girls” either. I don’t have “the anyone.” I never have, honestly. I’ve always felt like a social nomad of sorts, someone who can hang out in a bunch of different groups but never has a default group to fall back on.
And how about work friends? I was lucky in that one of my recent jobs was working with my dear childhood friend, Piezzor, but we only really saw each other at work and haven’t hung out since I left. Oh, speaking of work: I’ve made friends at my last few in-person jobs I had, but since COVID and remote work becoming a thing, I don’t even have those anymore. When you take it all together, it paints a pretty bleak picture, one that I’m struggling to reconcile right now.
What the fuck am I doing with my life?
This isn’t to disparage the wonderful parts. My wife is amazing, our pets are adorable and loving, and our home is my favorite place to be. When you’re a homebody, you spend a lot of time making sure the home you’re in works for you, and I’m delighted to say it does. I like my job well enough, and we can live fairly comfortably, and my relationships with my parents and brother are still strong. I don’t mean to take any of that for granted. But uh … I think I need a hobby, and/or some friends. Badly.
Because otherwise, I turn into the kind of person who has an existential meltdown over fantasy football.
Before I dig deeper into the solution, I should pause to say: I know this isn’t well-adjusted behavior. Honestly, I thought I’d left this behind when I got sober. It used to be common enough for me to melt down like this every other weekend over nothing. (Well, even more nothing than this.) But my very wise and very beautiful and wonderful and sweet and caring wife told me yesterday to view this as the next evolution in my recovery process. And I gotta say: I love that. I love that and I love her. I think that’s exactly what this is. Recovery, as they say, is more than just getting sober. It’s more than just not consuming your substance of choice. It also means recovering the other parts of your life that were lost or never had a chance to shine through. Now that we know the simple goal, let’s get started!
Hobbies
This seems like the easier place to start, especially since it’s in the spirit of Quiz Pop: What should I do as a hobby? Ideally, there’d be a quiz of some sort that can give me a quantitative, mathematical score that tells me what to do. And wouldn’t you know it? I just happened to find one! The Internet is amazing.
In the interest of time, I’ll set aside the usual preamble and just get into the nitty gritty. This quiz is 15 questions long, and it tells me I should do …
[Please use this time for mindful reflection; take a deep breath, in through your nose and out through your mouth. Feel free to look at this picture of Gritty if you need inspiration.]
Okay, my results are in and the hobby I got was: Sports. That makes sense, although it’s the tiniest bit ironic that a meltdown over fantasy football is what got me to this point. Still, I think it means participating in sports. This would also help with the social aspect I’ll cover later. Sadly, I’m not overly coordinated or athletic or anything, so I’m not sure this is the best answer. Let’s keep looking. Our dear friend BuzzFeed surely has something to say on the matter, right, BuzzFeed?
I knew I could count on you!
This one is fancier, with sliders and everything. I have to hand it to writer Jasmin Nahar here: it truly looks like some care and rigor was put into creating this quiz. Respect!
What does this one tell me? Mira:
This isn’t a terrible idea, honestly. I took four years of Spanish in high school and worked in an almost entirely bilingual English-Spanish office for years. There’s a very natural inroad for getting more fluent in Spanish. But I’m not sure language excites or interests me in that way. It’s not so much a “hobby” to me as it is a “useful life skill.” Not that there isn’t overlap there, but still. I wonder if there’s a way I can do something that lets me practice on my own time, as frequently or infrequently as I want, with the possibility of social interaction that isn’t inherently competitive.
What about … a musical instrument?
Maybe the most obvious answer has been staring me in the face all along. Literally:
This piano is sitting in our living room. (The cute glass bumble bee and vintage candy dish have subsequently moved into my office.) My wife teaches piano for a living and, naturally, plays it too. I’ve always wanted to learn piano — or, at least, I’ve been told I’d be good at it based on my long fingers — so … maybe I should do that! It’s not the most inherently social instrument, but it does check a lot of other boxes:
It’d engage the creative, artistic side of my brain
It’d allow me to practice essentially whenever I wanted
I have a built-in resource to consult for support and guidance
I could eventually get good enough to play it socially
Alright! It’s not exactly a definitive answer, but it’s a starting point. Besides, writing here is a hobby, and I don’t have any plans to stop doing that. (You hear me, first and only subscriber? I’m around!) So hooray! This feels promising!
As for the friendship piece? That should probably be its own post. This one is already almost 2,000 words long and I have PLENTY more to say. For your sake and mine, stay tuned for Part 2! Ooh, cliffhanger! Heady days at Quiz Pop. Heady days indeed.