Category: irrational

“survival” (g2)

Understand
that nothing is
fully guaranteed

but as the elevator
is falling
don’t for the love
of God

hold onto anything
but jump up

and down like crazy

and hope
that with luck
when it lands
you’ll be caught

up in the air
alive and well
saved in the blessed

space between
the ceiling
and the floor

–Chuck Sullivan
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cleaning (g2)

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I gave the blog a little facelift.  I needed it. I needed the words bigger and clearer, and something… different.

I removed things we weren’t really using and I’m trying to figure out how to expand on things I wish to see used more. Comments and constructive criticism most certainly welcome.

She Lives (G-uno)

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I’d love to tell you I stopped feeling sorry for myself after Tarzan’s death, but that’s not quite what happened. After my heartfelt talk with Ms Lee I did switch over from the this is about me mode only to jump onto the deeply dark why did he do it abyss. It’s strange because my job deals almost entirely with death. So why was his death so different? I can truthfully tell you I still have no answer to this question.

Why did Tarzan take his own life? It’s another question I have no answer for, and believe me I searched for a very long time. The only thing I can tell you is that somehow after months of delving I woke up one morning greeted by a desire to live again.

lost my job, need to move, no clue wtf to do and scared shitless (g2)

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Well… I feel rather dumb for complaining about things right now, but then again I kind of have to purge it. I have my health, which somehow managed to avoid the death flu and several stomach bugs, I have a great kid who will be going to an advanced art program this summer. My depression has not, so far, kicked into gear. However, I feel like I’m just strong enough to keep that below a crust… for now.

I even have a landlord who tried to give me his rent back when I told him I’d lost my job and said he’d support me getting moved if that is what I felt I needed to do.

End of March, not long after my fifth anniversary, I came into work expecting to have the same soul-sucking experience that is has been over 90% of the time I’ve been there. I’d been training a new manager on how to do everything I did (plotting for a smooth exit), most of which fell back to me as they were getting overwhelmed. They helped field some of the calls and emails coming in, but now we had two of us drowning rather than just me.

But I’ve been there the longest. And I work for a company that epitomizes every single article I’ve ever read about toxic environments. I get no information, no communication, but then am reprimanded when my responses to those outside are “too vague” and not “resolution-driven.” It’s really no wonder that the company itself has had to change names over the course of “twenty years” it likes to brag its been in business. By law, you have to shut down when you report a loss too many years in a row.

The VP… again, not my superior… but is the right-hand to one of the owners….calls me into a conference room around lunch. Everyone is gone and the only other person there is the HR manager.

The writing is on the wall.

“Huh, am I being let go?”

I’m being told yes, and they ask if they need to go over why. I say “I don’t see the point,” and go through the list of where to find anything they might need, forward my phone to the new manager, pack my things in a very small bag (all while being offered a large box several times and professing I don’t need it). I tell them its not like I’m going to disappear so if they can’t find something, just contact me.

It was so surreal.

I’ve never been fired.

I hate this place, but I busted my ass for over five years, and now… fired?

I get in my car and take one last look at the building I feel like I have wasted a chunk of my life on and realize… I NEVER have to come back here…

I realize I’m smiling about this idea.

I realize that I’m so stubborn and have been such a closet optimist that this shithole might actually get better that this might have been just what I needed to leave and make the changes I’ve wanted to make.

I don’t even unfriend the VP on facebook, though she does get moved to the restricted group.

I talk it over with Spawn and let them know what happened and we talk about moving… like… now.

Thirteen years of life to clean out, toss, donate, sell… and so so much. Every time I think we might have gotten through one room, I find yet another box, stash of papers etc.

I would even be grateful if that was the most stressful part.

I’m jobless.

Yes, they are paying me an additional month and told me to file for unemployment (which I’ve yet to see, so apparently I did something wrong). I socked away my tax refund rather than pay anything off or blow it and I have a 401k and a money market investment account I can pull from if I feel like buying a house… a modest house, but a house nonetheless.

I’m ok.

But I don’t feel ok.

I feel on the edge of freaking out.

Every time I’ve ever moved, I’ve usually had a friend or family to stay with until I got settled. And this time, I do have a cousin in the area, but neither of us are the type to share space unless we have to… holidays and that sort of thing. Three days is the expiration.

I’m sure the wife if dodging me when I’m up there for interviews so I don’t ask to move in with them for awhile. But the truth is, I’d live in my car and lie about it before I’d even ask.

It killed me to even tell them I was out of work. They are the pair with which I feel like I’m being graded whenever I’m around them and to ask for advice…. was an intensely hard thing for me to do. They know the area, they might have tips and places I would not think to look. And my cousin, did  have contacts at a couple of the staffing agencies, both of which has sadly done nothing for me.

I’m also prideful as hell. Every time I’ve been through something stressful: divorce, poverty,  a death of someone close to me, I shut out the world and maybe talk about it once I’ve resolved it.

But when you have a kid at stake, you have to put on that face of adulting as though you know what the fuck you’re doing when in truth, we’re all still those kids inside and figuring shit out only when we fuck it up. And when you have a kid at stake and their well-being, you get help wherever you think it might happen no matter how much of a prick your pride tells you to be instead.

I know… I know, logically, we will be fine. It’s been 3 weeks, I’ve submitted to over 90 openings, been in one 3 hour interview doing something I’ve never done before, but was eager over the prospect of learning something new, in spite of the long hours. They won’t decide until the 15th of next month, so I’d prefer not to wait. I’ve had a few other promising phone interviews, but its just not happening as fast as I would like it.

I’m really fucking good at what I do, and when I’m not, I’m very independent about figuring it out. I own my mistakes, I’m as honest as I can be within professional constraints. Hire me, dammit!

But then you also start house hunting, and they tell you to get pre-approved, but then they tell you you won’t qualify if you’re not employed… a friend advised just getting up there in the first cheap postage stamp I could rent, and then start looking and this way I would be available for interviews… which sounds great!… until I look at the daily cost. It’s HUGE and its like NO ONE wants to give you a deal for maybe a month. They are hell bent on locking you in for a year or more.

I want as much as possible to buy a real house.

Spawn wants a real house.

I want a real house.

This is where Spawn wants to finish school.

I don’t have much time before Spawn realizes that living with their parent is just not the way they want to do it forever. So before that period, I want them to have the house I’ve never been able to offer so they can decorate and do and make it, into everything they ever dreamed. I want that too.

But first, I want work… or I want both… or I want to not have to worry about both…I don’t know.

What if I’m just not enough for any of this? The last thing I want is my stress to become Spawn’s stress. I wish I knew what to do…

Signs, Signs, Everywhere Signs… (G-uno)

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I am a person who absolutely stands by scientific data. If you asked my family and friends if I am a logically sane person, the answer would be yes. I am however a person who believes in the existence of a higher spiritual existence. An existence that is much less accepted in our more scientific based world.

If you asked me to prove to you the spiritual things that I have encountered, I have had others with me to witness some of the signs. Like the majority of people, most of my witnesses would try feverishly to explain away what they have seen in order to escape some pretty harsh judgments by those who cannot accept the existence of things they cannot prove.

I personally don’t worry about that kind of judgement. I’m very secure with the things I have experienced, and for the most part my mental sanity. 😉 I will admit that I have been a bit off my personal game since the passing of “Bette Davis Eyes.” In my line of work, I deal with the dying on a regular basis. I’m not completely sure why her death affected me so negatively, but it did. I think part of the reason is that I asked her to give me a sign. It’s something I do with all of my clients and family members.

If “Bette Davis Eyes” gave me a sign, then I completely missed it. I have been way off my personal game since her passing in December. In fact, I have not taken one single dying client since she died. “The Universe” however has not given me a get-out-of-death-free card. My first cousin has been battling cancer since my last visit to Greece. He lost his battle last Tuesday.

There is never a great timing when a death occurs, but last Tuesday was a particularly difficult day for me because of my baby brother’s disability hearing. I have been fighting for this hearing for almost 10 years. I was absolutely wrecked over having to testify in front of him regarding the symptoms of his mental illness. He is fragile and the idea of breaking him was almost unbearable. I have been praying, and I believe that those who have passed watch over us. so I ask for their guidance when something is particularly difficult for me. I also ask them for signs.

My daughter drove my brother and I to the hearing which was about a 45 minute drive. I could not stop crying after I got the call that my cousin had passed. She knows I pray for signs. She’s more scientifically inclined like her father, but can not deny the things she has seen with her own eyes. First sign – the hearing was being held in a building that I took our elderly cousin who lived with us until her passing every Thursday for 5 years when she could no longer drive. Second sign – they sent us to room 420. My Father who I specifically asked for a sign from birthday is 4-20! I know all the non believers out there are shaking their heads, while muttering coincidence, but then came the 3rd sign.

While waiting to see the judge I continued to be unable to withhold my tears of grief. The guard thought that I was crying out of my fear of appearing in front of the judge. I apologized telling him I had gotten a call from Greece before coming, and was told my cousin had died. He told me he was sorry then smiled saying one of his closest buddies was a Greek. He tried to pronounce the not so popular town in Greece. I knew what he was trying to say, and said it for him. It was the town my cousins mother is from. It was where he would be buried! This is not a well known town. The chances of someone who even lives in Greece knowing this place are very unlikely.

I knew in my heart I was surrounded in love by those who watched over me. My daughter  just looked at me with bewilderment. Can I prove to you that this was nothing more than coincidence? No I cannot, but can you prove that is was just a coincidence? 😉

existential crisis (g2)

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I believe all of us go through various stages of our lives where we look up and suddenly think, “I HATE my life right now.”

I did that just before I got a divorce. I did the same when I hated the job and the town I lived in and just found out I was going to be a parent and moved a couple thousand miles back.

I had the same  when Spawn was a few years old and my career was… well, really fucking boring and leaving me strapped. It was mindless, repetitive, and just when I was done and updating my resume, I received a call from a former boss who wanted to lure to me their current company. Not only would I be using more of my brain, it held a significant pay raise.

It was great too, for a while. But one of my co-workers was as mercurial as they come and I was often walking on eggshells. The work itself was great and I was learning a ton, but the environment… not so much. However, a friendly buyout that turned hostile takeover nixed that job for all of us. The best time I had there was when the mercurial one jumped ship early on and the rest of us just didn’t give a shit anymore.

I landed this job right as I was ending that one. The work itself is a mostly mindless again, but the pay, on paper, is better. What I get to take home though, is significantly less than it was at my last job and although I know the benefits are a part of that, I didn’t think they were that big of a chunk.

We’re given no authority over our own position, but then they complain that no one takes initiative. Neither owner can keep their hands out of the cookie jar when things are good, and don’t hesitate to jump your shit when they aren’t. Hell, the CFO’s mom just died last week and one of the owners commented to her yesterday “What the hell is wrong with you, you look like your dog died?” She broke down so badly she had to go home.

Right now, things aren’t so great and its all to do with that fact that when we’re in our busy profitable season, the owners couldn’t buy new toys fast enough, despite my boss continually telling them we would need to sock away what we could for the lean season. They assume no one has their grand vision,  so any counsel is ignored.

This is also when I’m told my communication needs work. I’m the connection the outside world comes to when they want information and when things aren’t going so well, that communication increases by several fold. It means I have to come in and choose whether I’m going to do my job or just sit there and get back to people and I do balance both. But the bottom line is I’m never going to be able to make someone happy if I can’t give them what they were promised and that’s what they want me to do.

So I hate my job. I hate where I live. I hate that I hate both so much that I’m both restless and uninspired to do even the little things. I hate the debt I hold for a degree that has proven nothing but worthless and I feel that it will inhibit everything else I do for the rest of my life.

I want to move, I want to have a cafe, on the side of a cliff with a view to the ocean and I want it too fucking cold to see even a single surfer unless they are batshit insane.

But for not, I would settle for moving to the area where I hope my kid’s future school is and get a job that lets me take home the amount I was promised, or at least a significantly bigger portion than current.

I want to get just a little ahead instead of struggling so far behind.

I want to be inspired.

I want to be challenged mentally.

I feel like a corpse in motion.

the little ones talk sex (g2)

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Inevitably in my family if we get together long enough, the dick jokes and dirty innuendo come out. We have a small subgroup among in my family who will declare loudly that everything we say is awful and we should be ashamed, but secretly they are right with us and we usually take a jab they might need to get some.

I don’t know if they feel some parental obligation to fight it, or if they just want brownie points to keep them out of hell.

It was no different with my little cousins. I’m not sure if its due to the fact I recognize them as no longer the darling cherubs of their childhood, but young adults on the adventure of life or not, but I’ve never felt the need to scold them for anything they wanted to say, except perhaps the sibling hate speech to one another. I’d love to carve that out like cancer. They’ve never held back either.

As the evening progressed I kind of wish we’d migrated to someplace involving couches and coffee and/or wine so the chatter didn’t have to ever end. The topic of sex and relationships of course came up. The little sister firmly declared she didn’t care for sex and would rather not do “that” for the most part.

My quick reply was of course that she must be doing it wrong, which seemed to be our eldest aunt’s problem as well.

I might be biased…

No, no… I’m not. Little sister is fucking gorgeous and has suitors from both sides of the fence that would be more than happy to lick the bottom of her boots if she asked them. She has no clue the vast power she possesses. In this, she is much like her half-sister. The difference being is her half-sister does understand her power and has used it quite a lot in her life, often to disaster, and only toning it down in recent years.

Don’t get me wrong, the older sister is beautiful, tall and graceful. But there is just this something some people possess that seems to render those around them completely subjugated. Helen of Troy would have HAD to be one of these people. I have about three cousins (suspect four, but that one keeps it firmly under control so I cannot verify), all female, who have this ability as well.

The older sister seems to be exploring her oats these days. I see a ton of myself in her while she spoke of some of her relationships and alluded to conquests. She wants so much to open her heart to something real, and from the sound of it, to one in particular, but she is equally fearful of being rejected so she keeps this wall up. It bites you in the ass when you cannot be vulnerable, you just come off as ice cold because people eventually get tired of trying to get over that wall.

I had to smile because some of the things were almost verbatim to things I’d declared at the same age, so utterly convinced I’d had this relationship shit all figured out.

I hadn’t a clue.

By the time I could even think of how to respond, it was time to pack it in and leave.

If anything I wish I could tell her that you cannot make your heart tough enough to withstand the hurt of having it broken if you don’t expose it to the possibility of having it loved thoroughly first.

Building walls, only turns what’s inside to mush… useless and unspent. Exposure is what makes it more malleable, adaptable, bendable… not breakable.

You never really regret trying. You regret when you don’t.