The Bloody Doors Off

So I’m settled into my new work station. Twice. First time was for 4 hours (a temporary layover) and now I’ve got my own spot. It’s way the hell on the other side of the floor, but it’s pretty awesome. Two 23-inch monitors, running Adobe Cloud, and Windows 7 (I’m beta testing on top of everything else).

And I’m working Saturday. Possibly Sunday. And again next Saturday. I gotta figure out when I’m gonna do laundry and groceries. Holy crap. Be careful what you wish for.

Went to the ballgame with Wayne tonight. Jays got pasted 11-3. It was still a lot of fun hanging out with him. And when I got home, I had another 30 minutes of work from a client. And it looks like I’m getting that other client as well.

If I find time to breathe, let along buy that coffee maker, I’ll let you know.

Today’s been a day that kept me on my toes, and the moment I got home to unwind I got extremely introspective.

I’m working like a mofo, I’ve been communicating with a possible new client, there’s the baseball game tomorrow with Wayne, plans on the weekend. Invoices get paid in just a little more than a week, and I’ll finally be in the black.

The future may be a bit fuzzy, but I can see it.

Six months ago I couldn’t.

That should give me hope, and something to push me through the next 6 months.

… to the day. Hell, to the hour. And it was a Tuesday, to boot.

There are worse ways to spend an anniversary. Put in a full day on the contract, talked to a possible new client before I even left for the office in the morning. Walked down from Bay & College to King and beat the bus.

They finally fixed the bugs for logging in my hours; THAT’s a big plus.

And it’s been six months since I’ve had a cigarette.

I have an update on my diagnosis and will be switching out one of the medications (again, a plus). In a week and a half, I might have a new, kick-ass coffee maker.

With things getting busier, I need to more effectively plan my downtime. What is it I want to do? And what’ll it take to accomplish it?

I’m not the same guy I was 6 months ago. But I’m not sure who I’ve become. Or who I’m going to be.

The Hail Mary pass (get the hours approved in an email) has been thrown. (No, they still haven’t fixed the problem with the log in.)

Somebody better catch the damned pigskin. It’s not like I called a lateral on this.

(Oh look at me, using football references.)

Monday wasn’t the worst. Worked the entire day on the same document conversion I was on Friday. And it still needs more work. But this is why they brought me in. I’m damned good at this stuff. And I put in another hour for another client when I got home.

Made an omelet for dinner, or something that resembled one. Some days you get perfection, and some days you get melange.

When I get paid May 2nd, I’m buying a Keurig. That is my gift to myself.

My nephew’s fiancee is pregnant and on Friday we’ll find out (hopefully) if it’s a boy or a girl (I say it’s a girl, she believes it’s a boy). So either way, come September I’ll be an uncle or an aunt. (Bah DUM dum. I’m here all week; tip your server.)

Enough with the funny.

I’ve been feeling anti-social lately, and it’s been getting worse. I want to isolate myself from everyone and everything when I don’t need to interact (i.e., work). Not that I’ve been a social butterfly my whole life, lord knows I can be shy in some situations (shut up). But this is getting bad. There are times I’m screaming in my head to be left alone; others I have to force myself to get out and be social. I want to build the bonds with my family and am doing my best. But there are days it’s a huge fuckin’ struggle. Wayne and Donna hosted a simple dinner tonight with me and Kevin and my mom and step-father (they got back from Florida on Wednesday). It was good, but in the middle of it? Anxiety attack. Just brutal. I had to take a lorazepam and it wouldn’t dissolve under my tongue, it was so dry. I shouldn’t have anxiety hanging out with family.

Now I’m home and the roommate is out and it’s quiet and it’s totally needed. But it won’t last. And tomorrow I’ll be in a busy office and riding transit with hundreds of other people and working in one of the busiest parts of the city, and dammit I’m gonna want people to give me space at some point. I need to change my head space.

I just don’t know how.

I’m awake. Not that I really want to be. But need to keep consistent hours so I can wake up tomorrow at 7am for work.

I’ve emailed my hours to my supervisor for approval. It’s my recruiter’s ‘hail mary pass’ to get me paid on May 2nd. Supervisor agreed to give approval in the email, but that hasn’t come through yet. So maybe I need to set up a dipsy doodle (a la Harlem Globetrotters).

Seriously tired of fighting for what’s owed me. Don’t know how much I’ve got left to give.

This sums up everything I’m feeling:

Apparently some old wounds haven’t completely healed after all.

Welcome to my shitty Saturday night.

What pisses me off is that I was sure I was doing better. It’s been two years. And I don’t think it’s that actual thing that’s bothering me, but the lack of progress in my own life.

Even worse, I’m in the moment but I can’t just let it out. Because that would require screaming and throwing shit against a wall until I’m tired and yeah. So it gets buried until some random moment that I’m doing something completely unrelated and something pisses me off and it all comes out.

You can’t always get what you want, the song says. But sometimes you get what you need.

Well what I need is a fuckin’ break.

And a vacation, somewhere. I haven’t traveled since 2008. I haven’t done anything travel-wise since going camping right after I was laid off.

I’m slowly going crazy, and not the kind of crazy that people find endearing. Things have got to change, or shit’s gonna burn.

I forgot to write last night. Been writing in this blog for almost 6 months without fail since I exited Toronto East General. And on Good Friday, I lapsed.

Trying not to beat on myself for it. But this is a goal I must keep. Not just for my mental health, to use this as a mental clearinghouse. But as a way to keep writing, when I’m not focusing on a play or short story. I feel bad enough that I’m behind on the rewrites, but this. This burns.

I’m also burnt by this staffing agency. The login system for my hours still isn’t working. This means I won’t get the $240 for March 31st on Monday (when it was originally to be paid), and the deadline for April 1st-15th is Monday noon. IF I get an email out with my hours worked with a response by my supervisor confirming it sent to the agency by Monday at noon, I’ll see the money on May 2nd. Given that I have just over $200 until the end of the month, I’m gonna be extremely screwed if it doesn’t come in. I was counting on that $240 to show up. That would’ve made it easier to get to the 30th. I’ve emailed my rep and asked. Quite frankly I think they should cut me a fucking cheque on Monday once I have their ‘proof’.