The Bloody Doors Off

Today was a good day. I mean, a good day. Despite some gremlin trying to find purchase in my throat, threatening a viral fuck you towards my first day at a new part-time job, things were good. I may have hit the wrong button when my alarm went off and slept an extra 90 minutes, but I still had plenty of time to make my appointments. And my brothers joined me for the first time with my psychiatrist. And that went well too. I’ve never felt closer to them, and wow, did I learn that I’ve repressed certain memories from childhood. I can deal with that. Shit makes sense that I’d push it down. But I can handle in future sessions.

There was an email from a client with a bit of work for when I got home. I’d had a bite to eat with Kevin and Wayne, and the bus ride was damned relaxing.

And then I learn Harold Ramis died. Fuck. One of the reasons I gravitated to comedy, SCTV was the first real window into Canadian comedy. It twigged me to Second City, and in a circuitous way, improv.

This day was supposed to be about me. I wanted to be selfish enough to say “yeah, bitch, things are looking up”. And now I feel like a piece of crap for feeling that way, because Ramis passed on.

Oh, and the working world has decided to really fuck with me too. I had a call earlier when I was headed to my psychiatrist appointment. It went to voicemail, I thought it was Kevin or Wayne checking the time (I was cutting it extremely close; thanks TTC!). Nope.

It’s a recruitment/temp agency. They have my resume, and want to talk about jobs that are available.

I’ve never bailed on a job before. Okay that’s not entirely true. There was one time when I lived over a pawn shop and trying to freelance and took a really crappy assignment asking questions outside a supermarket. I lasted a day. But otherwise, I’ve never accepted a job and then walked away from it.

But I have to take that call tomorrow. I know this in my bones. The part-time job (that I haven’t started yet) is going to barely pay the rent, and certainly not the bills. What if there’s a juicy contract position available that I’d be perfect for? I’ve been out of work since 2012 and I need something strong. Am I being an asshole for considering this?

Am I going to make people hate me?