The Bloody Doors Off

Today was a real learning experience at the job. I’ve been so accustomed to working conversions, that the normal day-to-day stuff was taking several attempts to get right. It got to me, the frustration. Once or twice I just wanted to scream.

That upset me even more.

I need to readjust. At least it wasn’t insanely busy; we went from 0 to 60 and held it for a good while, and then with 20 minutes left, dropped right back to zero. And I got some work in Production which, not that I’m there for another 4 months (and 4 months of Saturdays), that’s training I need. Just wish I wasn’t so damned hard on myself. That was the bitch part; a learning curve is always gonna happen, I just need to remind myself that while I can’t be perfect, I can be good.

Of course, I’ve been learning that curve for 47 years so. Old dog, new tricks?

Need to shake it off. I have a date Sunday afternoon.

Talk about another learning curve.

Now begins the fight with Trillium. I need to send in a copy of my taxes and EI form to prove that 2013 was indeed the worst fucking year of my life and I’m paying way too much for prescription medications and why the hell is my deductible more than doubled from when I got laid off?

My doctor said I have a hard time being happy. Wonder why?

I’m reminded of the moment in the book when the two leads dance their way to a middle score, exactly where they want to be. While most people would look at the bar they set as being beneath them, it was a high watermark for two damaged people looking for something good in their world.

I got offered the contract extension today. Working until the end of October. And who knows after that? April was a start.

It’s just a jump to the left.

I wanted to scream, to pump my fists. I hate that my self-worth is tied to tightly to work, but this was an adrenaline shot.

And then a step to the right.

Instead I took a short break and called my family. The subtext of the calls: ‘Thanks for still believing in me.’

With your hands on your hips.

Some people would think I was nuts, celebrating like this. Wanting to jump for joy.

You bring knees in tight.

But I feel like I’ve been chasing something for so long, and I finally got in reach.

But it’s the pelvic thrust, they really drive you insane.

It’s not a full-time job. But it’s 7 months working straight. And maybe more. Or a great jumping off point to reach for the next rung in business and getting above the clouds that encircled my head for 18 months.

Hey, wanna do the time warp with me? Again?

You know what pissed me off today, only it took until just now to figure out?

That asshole Doug Ford pretty much saying that ‘alcoholism’ can be cured. That shit enables. And as someone who binged at 19-20 and had to go dry for 10 years to find control again? And surprised that he did?

He can kiss my ass.

And alcohol DOESN’T make you become racist. It lets the racist out.

/rant

There’s something to be said for being in your 40s.

Yes my body is slowly breaking down. I’ve got a problem with my right foot that’s tied to my type 2 diabetes. I don’t sleep through the night without pills and a CPAP. Can’t keep my eyes open past midnight these days. (Yes, I get the dichotomy.)

But the experience. That’s worth being 47. I may not always trust my gut (mistake), but when I do, good things happen.

So I reconnected with a friend today. She and I hit it off amazingly. It was always there, I think. But it was never the right time,, right place.

Today it was.

And the first rule we settled on: no matter what happens, we remain friends. Good rule. No pressure either.

Best part? We’re both old school.

It’s my day off, but it’s not. I’ve been on the go since 8am. Doctor’s appointment, down to the bank to get routing info (because the Agency still can’t get my banking information correct). Back home and work later in the day, in two pieces.

And now I’ve just started laundry. Oh right, I also cooked a meatloaf earlier. And made jell-o.

Someone truss me up with rope, sprinkle me with ginger, and call me Pancake Betty.

I can’t stop. Because I’m afraid of what will happen if I do.

I don’t do well standing still, it seems.

Well, I’ve always known I have a hard time relaxing. But it’s worse when there’s nothing.

I was faced with that earlier today. Finally a day off, and no plans. I didn’t even need to do laundry. (I’ve been doing laundry every Sunday to fill time.)

And it hit me. An overwhelming urge. A need to fill the void. I was a slave to the need to make noise.

I packed up the laptop and hit Tequila Bookworm. There was no AC, and no power outlet I could use, which meant limited battery life. But for an hour I wrote. I filled the black hole with voices from the play. And beer. Because it was hot as fuck. I’d prefer to have had coffee, but I wasn’t going to torture myself.

And now again it’s quiet. I’m trying to focus on a show on HBO (The Leftovers) but it isn’t helping. Am I immune to shock, because this show is trying really fucking hard to shock the audience and it’s not registering with me.

I went to see a movie with my friend Laura last night and at one point she jumped out of her seat and yelped. I miss having those moments.

It’s too damned quiet in my head. Which is the opposite problem I had last October. I swear there’s no middle ground in the battle for my psyche.

Shhhh.

They didn’t pay the invoice because of the overpayment. So I’ve got two options: fight the fuckin’ thing tooth and nail (and burn the bridge with the agency as a result), or just let it go.

Either way, I get screwed over. There’s no way to win.

I don’t know if I even wanna play any more.

And today was allegedly D-Day (D for Discharging the Bankruptcy). No word. I don’t know if I’m out of this or if I’m stuck for another 11 months.

Like I said. Dunno if I wanna play this game any longer.

I’ve been putting in serious hours this week, just not only at the contract job. One of my clients is ramping up a big job and I’m happy to have the work. Question is: when am I gonna sleep?

I have a feeling I’m gonna have to fight for my invoice to be paid this week: I’m sure they’re planning on going ahead ‘docking’ it for the overpayment (which yes, is illegal). The angst is keeping me awake.

There’s a long weekend (for me) coming up. I work Tues-Sat, but Tuesday is a holiday. I suspect, however, that I’ll have work in. I hope I find a few hours to relax.

I’ve got an idea for a sequel to a play I wrote a few years ago, but first I have to finish the rewrites on A Song for Rachel. When am I gonna find the time?

Tempus fugit. Tempus fucking fugit.

Thinking about relationships tonight, and how I just don’t have the fucking time to start one if I wanted to. Running the business alongside working this contract? I barely have any time for myself right now. And as attractive as a new relationship is, especially the new relationship energy that you feed off of (and give back to), I wouldn’t have the ability to enjoy it until things settle down.

Honestly, I’m up at 8am and at work for noon (when most people have already been at work for 3 hours), then I’m home after 9pm and, like tonight, putting in an hour or more for another client, and associated paperwork blah blah stuff my face yada yada I’ve got 3 cats.

But I can’t live off of work alone. I need to find a balance. Just no idea how.