State of Shock

Back to work last week.

City job. Worked Wednesday, Thursday, Friday. Wed half day, Thurs and Fri full days.

State of shock. I haven't worked for four months. Wednesday is survivable because I don't have to be in until 12:00. Thursday and Friday I gotta get up at 5:30. That was pretty shocking.

This narrows my focus. My priorities are: fix my brain, get my house off my back, deal with the job. The timing is good. I was beginning to bend in the discipline arena; being dragged kicking and screaming back into "reality" juiced me up good.

Not a bad schedule. Work 2 and 1/2 days, get 4 and 1/2 days off. I like the way it feels.

Back in the pre-Covid days I worked Mon and Tues at CCA, Wed, Thurs, Fri at City, and usually a Friday night and/or Saturday at CCA. Having CCA out of the picture is like a breath of fresh air. Frees me up. Gives me a chance to breathe.

Dragged my ass back to work with the right attitude. During those 4 months off I thought about what I didn't like about the job and how I could make it better. Simultaneously I was working on my brain.
Apparently I was somewhat successful.

I noticed at work last week I reacted differently to annoying situations. Didn't let it get to me. Felt confident. The biggest change was in the 5:30 shit. Used to be on Wednesday and Thursday nights I would be suicidal. And I would go to bed like an old man. 10:00 at the latest. If I woke up at 3:30 I would keep myself awake with anger, so fucking pissed that I couldn't make it to the alarm.

I realized that it makes no difference when I go to bed; I am always tired. So I decided not to give a fuck. Last week I went to be at 11:00, 11:30. Thursday morning I woke up at 4:45. Think about that. 45 minutes before the alarm was rigged to explode. I didn't care. I laid comatose in that in-between space until the alarm went off.

Friday I woke up at 4:00. Didn't care. Laid comatose in that in-between space until the alarm greeted me. Recognizing that no matter how tired I am I can still function, has freed me. I go downstairs, Maka makes me smile, I go to work.

Moving forward, baby. Hate working, like the security (? - further Covid complications) the job provides (and the pay is damn good). Worst case scenario - neither job called me back, unemployment ran out, there were no jobs available. I would have been swimming in Whiskey River.

My liver has been spared.

I am going to stay on top of this job, stay tough, not let it get to me. We have a solid plan on how to get out from under this house. Spoke to 2 realtors and the Ugly House people. Got a real feel for what we need to do. I continue to work on my brain.

The one thing I need is something to throw myself into. I figured that out when I started to feel empty during the layoff. I gotta come up with something to throw myself into, something to work on, something I love that inspires me. That is what's missing in my life. HUGELY missing in my life.

Anyway, got some positive shit going on. The One Year Plan. We are hoping to be out of here next spring or summer.

I think that is called looking to the Future (with Hope).

Ciao, baby.