This stream of consciousness is intended to be an unfiltered account of my journey to fight my way to a healthier, happier life. One day at a time, one step at a time, one organically-grown-emotionally-raw blog post at a time…
Thoughts on my job, or my career path, or working in general.
I didn’t hear the alarm go off this morning and when I heard the shower turn on I seriously thought about pretending to still be asleep through the morning routine. Allergies are kicking me in the ass this year and the 2am flair up that causes me to wake up with severe congestion and watering eyes has got to take a hike. I didn’t want to get out of bed.
But I did.
It’s my last Monday at my day job. That’s worth doing a happy dance over right? I suppose, if I could only get into that groove. I think I need caffeine.
This past weekend was pretty good. But I’m not in any mood to look back. Yesterday is yesterday’s news. The better plan would be to look forward… to the good, good life that’s unfurling before me.
3 more days of work and I’m piecing out on that gig. ☮️
There are also 3 more days left before the first issue of The Good Life Review lit mag goes live (if we can make it on time). I’m going to be a busy bee today loading content into pages. I’ll celebrate when that’s done. I’ve also been (in classic Miss SugarCookie form) procrastinating writing our “letter from the editor,” so that’s gotta make its way onto my daily to-do list pretty soon now.
Looking past this week, we wasted no time planning a bit of a post-employment getaway. We’re still in a pandemic, of course, so we can’t fly anywhere and Jim doesn’t have any more time off scheduled anytime soon, so we’re just going on a mini road-trip over a weekend in October.
He had a “staycation” not that long ago, but for me a staycation does not cut it because the house is really my job and if I can’t get away from that, I’m not going to get any real R & R. Plus, his son also decided to stay over all week and my daughter was here most of the week too. Which leads to messes and sinks full of dishes. Nope. I need to get away from the house to truly get away.
What else? October!! 🍁 The temps are dropping and the mums and pumpkins have made their ways to all the front porches. The trees are turning and leaves have started to fall. Though Autumn can be beautiful, it’s my second to last favorite season. Probably mostly because the beauty is so short lived and there’s always some random freeze reminding me that winter is just around the corner. Winter being, of course, my least favorite season. ❄️
Good gravy.. I’m feeling so brain mushy today. I think I just really need coffee.
They’re relentless rolling towards the shore where waves crash like an unforgiving Kublai Kan. Or the resulting opiate inspired vision in dream. Just a fragment. A sliver of the largest moon that ever pulled the tide up with such reliable gravity. Such a tragedy that the only words to linger after the last line are ones about broken hearts.
Today is a strange day. Yesterday at about this same time, when I was thinking about today all I could think about was the fact that it’s my brothers birthday and also the 25 year anniversary of the day I started my first job as professional adult. I actually thought about that for a while and considered writing about it but the end of the world seemed more important.
Plus, the anniversary is today so I figured it would make for a better fit for today anyhow. But now it’s not.
Get this. I have (had) 4 days left working at my current job (Same professional line of work— different gig) and my boss tells me yesterday late in the day to take Friday off. What?!? That’s does not happen.
So instead of pontificating over the fact that my career is ending neatly at almost exactly 25 years to the day it started, I’m waking up to thoughts of writing poetry and beginning my journey catching up on stacks of books and lit magazines. With the day off, I also got a pass at getting up to make breakfast and ended up laying in bed with my laptop until like 9:30.
I revisited my spreadsheet of submissions and my Submittable account. I went through and marked all the recent rejections (I highlight them in light orange because it’s so much more pleasing than the red color that is oft associated with rejection). As I look through this spreadsheet I’m delighted by the few stripes of blue that have started to appear.
I colored in another row last week with that cornflower blue. I’ve got a poem that will be appearing in December in a journal that, like my beloved Good Life Review, is on its maiden voyage. The poems I had submitted there were one’s I had not submitted anywhere else and really, the whole process feels like a twisted crap shoot. The fact they picked up the one they did amazes me. Who knows what might appeal to someone or fit with what they are looking for? 🤷♀️
Oh to get into the heads of those editors!! 🤷♀️🤷♀️
Still.. it gives rise to a warm fuzzy inside. Cozy like a cat stretched out by a crackling fireplace in the middle of winter.
So I had to send them a new bio and headshot. My headshot is not really a headshot, but it’s the best I’ve got right now. The new bio took me a bit as they wanted more words than I typically offer and just wasn’t sure how to beef it up.
Once that was done, I hunted for new places to submit. I took my time (still gloriously laying in bed) revising a few things for three different new places. That’s what delayed me by like 2 hours getting down to my treadmill. But I’ve got the day off so who cares!! 💃💃💃
And with that.. I’m now checking the weather and contemplating a bike ride and perhaps sitting out on the patio sipping an iced latte. Time to get down to figuring out what this jobless life is going to be like .. right!??!
Feels like it’s the perfect time to resurrect “First Draft Friday.” Again., it’s been so long since I’ve written anything new or worthy of sharing and I very much want to do that. The best place to start, of course, is by reading. That stack of books will be the perfect jumping off point. Yes??
My bro, the rocket scientist, is 49 today. He’s a brilliant person who is a good role model for what it looks like to live your best life. He’s nearly two years my senior but has never had much time for me. When we were kids he avoided me like the plague at school.
Now he makes stacks of cash working for Ball Aerospace on contracts for NASA and spends his free time hiking and climbing mountains near Boulder Colorado.
He’s never given me as much attention as he did that time I climbed a fourteener. I remember arriving back to the apartment I was staying at in CO after that climb and being exhausted out of my mind but not able to rest until I called him to tell him. We talked and talked and I was so pleased he was impressed with me. Guess I’d been waiting for a long time for that. Admiration from someone I’ve looked up to my whole life. Life is strange.
That saying.. “The tide is turning”.. where did that come from? Tides don’t turn do they. I mean they get larger and smaller but they don’t turn. Rivers never flow the opposite way. The toilet may flush down in the opposite direction, but only when you are in the opposite hemisphere. What gives?
Anyway. That’s it.. my hour is up. Happy Birthday Bro, ~Miss SugarCookie
Having four cats means you have to scoop litter boxes everyday.
This morning I started crying in my kitchen. I was loading the dishwasher when Alexa started telling me about memorial plans for Ruth B.G. as a part of my daily news briefing. I had not really grieved the loss yet. It just happened.
I have 6 days left at my job. And I’ve already logged like 24 hours this week. 🙄
Having four cats means there are cats everywhere you go in the house (mostly because they follow me around though).
Today I put on dirty clothes to carry out my morning routine cuz I wanted to wear my favorite sweatshirt and have been procrastinating doing laundry.
I had tickets to see Elton John in June of 2020. This was cancelled, of course, because of the arrival of the end times. Today I learn from the almighty in-box that the concert has been rescheduled for March 2022. Yeah. Not a typo. 2022. Hope he lives that long.
Having four cats means you don’t get a good night sleep unless you kick them ALL out of the bedroom. And sometimes you don’t get good sleep even then.
I’ve got some poetry that’s going to be published starting this week. A publisher that accepted ALL of the six poems I submitted to them. I keep thinking I should do more self-promo on social media. But that feels too much like having bronchitis.
I’m back to using my tiny SE first gen. Yesterday my daughter showed me how to increase the font so I can read without my glasses. That’s when you know you’ve officially arrived at old age.
Yesterday my daughter was tested for a thyroid condition. Her brother has Hashimoto’s Thyroiditis and since that’s hereditary, we thought it would be good to rule that out for her. The results were swift and good. She doesn’t have it!
When you have four cats you spend a fair bit of your day loving them up. And as a consequence you don’t get other stuff done. I mean, like laundry and dishes and making the bed. And whatever else you can think of to blame on the cats.
That’s a wrap. Or a sub sandwich. Or.. better yet.. a Cheeseburger!
Last night I had a dream I could not shake. I mean.. I dreamt the dream and woke up multiple times and then fell back to sleep into the same scenario twice.
I’ve got a big assignment due for school. Something that’s going to take months of work and I’ve shown up to the scene empty-handed. I’ve procrastinated past the point of no return and have to ask for an extension. I ask for a day, when what I have to do can still not ever be done in a day.
I get a finger wag and stern talking to from my advisor. Her ass is on the line with this too somehow. I lie to her.
I tell her it’s almost done. That it just needs some polish. That I want it to be awesome and don’t want to wing it.
That last bit is true. I want the outcome to be a success. I really don’t want to wing it. It’s just not who I am. Or at least not who I want to be. Maybe that’s the issue my brain is struggling with. That I feel like I’m faking everything I’m at right now and not doing anything well. Ugh!
Anyway, then my advisor and I part ways and what do I do? I head straight to where the social action is instead of getting to work on my project. Why did I do that??! I was so anxious and nervous and still opted to procrastinate further.
Then I wake up and fall back asleep and it’s a day later and the stakes are higher. I’ve already asked for an extension and I can’t do that again. I’m so terrified of meeting with my advisor again who is basically one of the sweetest women I know. I’m banking on her using that sweetness to hold it together when I tell her I’m still not ready. It’s progressed past my having any control and I’m at the mercy of the Universe.
I’m crossing fingers that I’ve stacked up enough karma points to get me through this moment. My reputation is at stake and I’m positive I’m about to be called out as a fake.
After all, if you fake it till you make it, that’s what you are right??!! Just a fake?
Waking up to real life brought me some relief. I was released from any obligation to continue playing out that scene. Still, it left me laying there haunted. Why brain??… WTH??!!!
Today is my second to last Monday at my job. 8 days to go.
This morning as I was driving my son to school, which is about 50 minutes round trip. I was thinking about leaving my job and team and started to tear up. What is wrong with me? I should be happy, yet was overcome by sadness and fear of regret. This is what I want right?
I look over at my son, asleep in the passenger seat. Is he the project I’m failing at? Have I been Faking parenting him for 16 years and coming up hot at the end of his days at home and not ready.
Isn’t he the reason I’m quitting my job? And Jim and Z and our family life. Or is it so I can selfishly spend my days working on my fitness and my art. What will I choose to do with those extra hours in my day?
Will I check the Gradebook for Coop and be on his case when he starts to slip? We’re a month into school and I’ve only checked once. Epic fail.
Will I get down to work cleaning the toilets and scrubbing floors like a good Cinderella or will I just binge on Jazzercise and Electric Literature?
Time will tell.
As he got out of the car to go into the school, I felt another wave of sadness wash over me. He felt so distant as he said goodbye. I felt like I’d neglected him this weekend because we barely spoke and I was focused on work and prepping for a social gathering.
I pulled out of the parking lot and started to tear up again. Again, WTH?
Then I looked at my phone .. and tapped on my Fitbit app, swiped my finger down to refresh. Swiped my thumb up to scroll down. And there was the answer. It’s exactly 7 days till I get my period. That means prime time for the emotional swells. Mystery solved.
I continued my drive home thinking about poetry. How people won’t want my words because who wants to hear anything about spoiled white Cinderella in her broken castle? Made me think about my ex-husband, oddly enough. And the fact that he inadvertently gifted me books of material during our life together. If only I had a desire to visit that time in my life again.
But no. Like bronchitis.. ain’t nobody got time for that!
As my time today on the treadmill nears it’s end.. I toggle to my work app and see people wishing someone a happy birthday and I start to tear up again.
Yeah.. this ones gonna be a doozie!
On that note… my time is up. Happy PMS Monday Ya’ll, ~Miss SugarCookie
It’s Monday. That’s not news. I’ve got 3 weeks left at my stupid job. That’s not news either, but it does make me feel like.. like.. it’s about good goddamned time.
Today I’ve been scheduled for back to back meetings for 4 hours. That’s not living. That’s having your life drained away. There’s so much more that needs doing.
Today I got up at 6:30 to cook breakfast for Jim before he went to work. Then I went back to bed. More because I was just not in the mood to chat or sit at the table staring at the monster pile of crap thats growing on our kitchen counter. I wasn’t ready to face this day with all of its demands. Like an unruly teenager whose never satisfied.
Our refrigerator is on its deathbed and I’ve slowly been migrating cheese and milk and eggs to an alternate location. There’s a fair bit that needs to be thrown out too. Then as the bins and shelves are emptied, it becomes apparent that it’s just sticky and crumby all over in there. How does that happen? Years of neglect in bachelor city I suppose. Spills and sloppy extraction evident all over. I can’t in good conscience let that go. So I take to it with a rag and the lavender scented multi-surface cleaner.
Somebody’s got to do it and I guess that somebody is now me.
I don’t have time for that. And the pile grows larger.
I tried to be smart about the start of my week, you know, going to the grocery on Sunday night. One less thing to do this morning. Until I go to cook breakfast and realize that I’ve forgotten something. Good gravy.
And the dishes need doing. And the recycling is taking over the garage. And the cleaning of the Solarium was left half finished. And the litter boxes need scooped. And did I mention that I was booked solid with work garbage starting at 11?
Ain’t nobody got time for that.
I literally stood still in my kitchen for like 10 minutes, just paralyzed with uncertainty about what to do. I looked up at the temperature gauge which read 56 degrees and decided it was too cold out to drive to the store (The only vehicle here I can drive is a jeep which has no doors and no top right now).
I looked at my phone. And was reminded how much I miss my BAE with its small size that fits my hand and aggressive Bluetooth pairing. I checked my email and a little time was sliced off my day as I got sidetracked with a flash fiction story i found in my in-box. After reading that, I kinda wanted to just go back to bed with a book and just keep reading. But I can’t.
Three more weeks. Yup, about good goddamned time alright.
That’s it for this Monday folks. Until next time. ~Miss SugarCookie
(Spoiler alert.. this post is mired in introspection and peripheral questions. Which I’m apparently incapable of avoiding to get to my point.)
Today I’m attempting once again to answer life’s ever burning question which is, of course… What’s the meaning and purpose of it all?
I’ve been quite distracted lately. Running like that chicken in whatever direction the shiny objects happen to be dangling. I’m flitting this way and that until I’m spent and fall into that all-too-familiar 5 hour deep sleep.
Then I wake, unrested and unsettled but ready to begin again. No rest for the wicked I suppose. But how wicked am I anyway. Must be pretty damn wicked to have inherited this hamster wheel.
I often think.. if I just had more time, I’d get it all done and finally be able to relax. But it occurs to me that at the core, I like the chaos. Could that be true. Is my default operating mode stuck in high gear because that’s just part of who I am. What would I do if there were no shiny objects and I woke after a perfect 8.5 hours of sleep to a day where I had balanced amounts of work and play pencilled into crisp 1 hour time slots in my day.
What if my day was clean and smooth and the meal and rest breaks were appropriately dispersed throughout. And all the dirty dishes did themselves. What would life look like then? And would that make life better or just different?
Would I start making regular trips to the hardware store to pick up wrenches to throw at my perfect plans. Would self-sabotage ensue?
Hmmmmm. It seems as if instead of attempting to answer that burning question, I’m just adding 20 other question to the pile. Such madness.
It’s true that lately (like the last two months) I’ve had more to get done and more responsibilities than I’ve had in quite some time. It’s kind of been exhausting and the health issues and not sleeping well just make getting through each day more of a challenge (not to mention the world stuck in a swirling vortex of doom). I’ve felt like a failure for dipping on commitments I’ve made. Then I spend too much on the guilt that follows. But that’s not the point today.
I’m still missing my mark. 🤔
I’m about three long weeks away from cutting a big chunk of responsibility out of my life indefinitely. For the last two months I’ve been spending an FTE effort on work. It’s a job I agreed to do 10-20 hours of work for each week and instead of capping the amount of work in my queue, they just shovel piles of work in my general direction.
And like the good girl I am I just take it and like everything else in my life I attach my self worth to my ability to get it all done in top-notch fashion. If I dip or fail or don’t get it done in time, I take it too much to heart. I worry my reputation will be tarnished and for the love of all the cheese in the Universe I still care too much about what others think of me.
How old do I have to get before I can really start not giving a fuck what other people think of me. Is that just another part of who I am that’s never going to change? Will I be able to make that transition after I’m really done working and moving into this next phase of my life?
Again with the digression into introspective questions? What is with that nonsense today? I’m still missing my point. What was my point again?
Ahhhh, yes.. The answer to the meaning and purpose of life.
In the last two weeks I’ve been distracted. I got a new kitten from Jim for my birthday. 🐱 The timing of that was perfect, romantical, sweet and also terrible.
I don’t have time to take care of this newest member of my family. Having a kitten is a lot of work. They have a ton of energy and demand attention. I can’t just sit at my desk and get stuff done. He’s constantly exploring all around and frequently walks across my keyboard. And to make matters worse, he contracted a nasty virus shortly after his arrival (or possibly because of the travel and exposure to external things) which has caused us to not only worry but also keep him in quarantine (from our other cats).
So to spend time with him and make sure he gets acclimated to his new home we’re quarantined in that area of the house too. We are spending lots of time upstairs in the quadrant where my daughters room is and the hallway outside of that which is connected to my office.
Then, like the good cat mom I am, I feel guilty about not spending enough time with the other cats. So we’ve been letting them into our master bedroom at nights to compensate. Which leads to a lot more distractions during those 5 precious hours of sleep. See how that’s all just a viscous cycle?
Finally getting there my friends, to the point I’m aiming at. That the point of life is to engage fully with all that distracts us. Because what would life be without that? Boring, listless, mundane?
The point is not the hamster wheel that goes nowhere. The point is the shiny object that makes the wheel spin faster. Those ideas and events, people and animals, words and opportunities that make our hearts beat a little faster and keep us from sleeping. After all, it would not appear shiny enough to distract us if it was not something we want, deep down at the core of us.
I already love that kitten, who we have named Gustav— Gus for short. I love being distracted by him and know that he will not be a tiny kitten for long. I’ve actually been distracted by him about 8 times while trying to write this. It might be the reason why this post has been so all over the place and distracted. 😂
So that’s my story today, which really feels like a long winded excuse of why I’m not getting the things I should be doing done and placing a fair amount of blame on Gus. Thanks Gus. ❤️
On that note.. I’m out of time. Such is the nature of life.
I woke up at about 6:30AM and for the first time in a while, I’m looking forward to the day.
Something about a long string of days that involve stuff you’re not looking forward to that really messes with a persons groove. I’ve obviously been in a funk. I’ve obviously been a broken record, stuck on repeat and really.. ain’t nobody got time for that! 😜
But I can feel a change in the air this morning. It’s still August and hot out but the leaves are starting to turn and fall. I’m counting down the days left working for the MAN (23 💃💃💃) and feeling great about my decision. I’m waking up thinking about my family and what were gonna be able to do together this weekend instead of all the work crap that’s always looming over me.
I’m thinking about really catching up on lit mag business and taking my time reading through all the selections our editors are passing on through to publishing. I’m excited to get to be that person who tells someone else “yes, we love this! We want to showcase your work.. let’s do it!” And I’m excited about the first issue coming out and the updated design for the site and all the opportunities that will open up to generate interest. We’ve got podcast action in play and I really feel like that will boost us to next level.
That’s a lot to be excited about but it doesn’t stop there. I’m looking forward to re-engaging with my own personal writing endeavors. From the submission spree I went through in July, I’ve gotten a few accepts and a few rejects and though I know most will come back as rejects.. I’m still energized to follow through with more revision and submission and maybe putting together a chapbook or full length book.
I’d like to say I’m looking forward to reading and writing more but I’m not gonna try and force that. I think my mo-jo will return soon. I think it will happen naturally as the work garbage winds down and I have more time. I hope anyway.
Well as far as status goes I feel as if I’m going to be a good citizen and not contribute to any community spread of the deadly virus that’s all the rage this year that I’m gonna have to self-quarantine for the duration. Both my kids went back to school recently and so far this week we’ve gotten a total of 4 emails from the HS principal about known cases with students.
The students are not identified in these emails of course and the communication assures is that if there was known contact with our child, we would have been notified separately. We haven’t, but that does not mean it wasn’t possible. I’ve seen what the scene looks like dropping my son off and picking him up. Lots of teenagers standing or walking in clusters. Some with masks and some without.
Not sure what to make of all that and nothing I can do really except watch my kids for symptoms and keep having open dialogue about what to watch out for and to keep up on the regular hand washing and mask wearing and not touching their faces.
Yesterday marked the end of the first full week where I took zero lorazepam. I’m still struggling with the annoying withdrawal symptoms but it’s no where close to what I had when I tried to cut it out cold turkey,
I had my annual visit to the gyn this week and the PA I saw suggested I try magnesium for my continued struggles with sleep. I don’t listen to hip-hop but I’ll give it a shot I guess. Oh.. and she found a lump in my left breast so I’m going for a deeper diagnostic on that Monday. Not too concerned about that and no reason to dwell on it until the diagnostic is done.
Nothing. That’s enough really, don’t you think?
My step counts look abominable lately and I’m gonna end my walk today with a quick jog and that means I’m done writing.
I’m an all or nothin kind of girl. You know, I don’t have it in me to do things “half-ass.” I just don’t. Sometimes I wish I could, you know. Just do a thing and get as far as I get and say “good enough.” Believe me, I’ve tried.
That’s why this work-life balance puzzle has been so rough. I’m sure my company knows that. I’m positive that they know that if they ask for my involvement, I’ll be in it to win it through to the end. We can all look back and agree that what they asked for was “as much as I wanted to offer.” But the reality is that if I’m given a job to do, I’m never gonna say “I’ve worked my quota this week so the rest of this pile will just have to wait.”
I’ll keep putting in the hours until it’s done and done right. And then my husband will come home from work and ask what I did that day. And it includes just work and more work and nothing he’s asked me to do. I know it’s bad when I hear the garage door go up and I rush downstairs to take the trash out or unload the dishwasher or fold the towels so it appears I’ve done an ounce of something supportive of our household.
In truth, I’m just not very domestic. I’d rather work than do house chores. I might complain at times but I almost always enjoy my job. That’s why quitting was such a tough decision to make. But I did it.
If it has to be too much or nothing, I’m gonna try nothing on for size for a while. I’ve told a few folks. People ask “what are you gonna do now?” The truth is, I don’t know. Be a better wife and mother. Try to be a writer for real. Or something else? 🤷♀️
Will I be busy or bored? I know when I took time off in 2017, it was fantastic. I worked on myself and my health like a boss and it was great. I was happy and took my kids on some seriously wicked good vacations. And I re-discovered how much satisfaction I get from making art.
I started dating again and enrolled in an MFA program. Toward the end of that 6 months I re-engaged with society and figured out what I wanted from a job. Figured out that what I wanted was a job and not a career. And I was picky about it. It was going to be the right job accepted on my terms. That’s exactly what I found.
That was at the end of 2017 and the company I was hired on at was the same one I quit from this week (though I of course Agreed to stay on through soft-launch at the end of September).
In the past 2.5 years with them, I’ve learned a lot about myself and probably also more about how corporate culture works no matter how small the company is. In the past 2 years my life has also been altered in some pretty significant ways.
When I took that “part time, 25 hour a week gig”, I could not have imagined I would be meeting my future husband. Or moving or getting married or having step-children. Nope. There’s no crystal ball folks and life is so very unpredictable.
Now it’s almost 3 years later and I’m almost done with that MFA program and looking forward to the future.
Perhaps I’m still trying to convince myself that my decision to quit is still solid, and that’s the reason for this post. I mean, the horse has been beat dead for a while now where this blog is concerned. Why am I still writing about it? There has to be a reason.
It’s Wednesday and I’m taking the day off. Cuz, like I said it’s all or nothing and today I’m choosing nothing.
Which is, of course, not really nothing.
Instead I’m going to a doctors appointment and lunch with my mom and drive my son to and from school. I’m gonna catch up on some correspondence and have a friend over for a backyard happy hour this afternoon. And then hopefully roll into the evening with a bit more vim and vigor than I usually have. Sounds pretty great right?!
Anyway. My hour is up. Time to get on doing all that nothing. 😜
I’m gonna quit my job today. I’m a little anxious and nervous about that but also just ready for the moment to be done. There’s no official letter, no big to-do. That’s really not how this gig is. I mean, if I was a corporate cool-aid drinker, maybe. But I’m not, so it’s more like just letting folks know I’m bout to fade into the rear view.
Compared to other things I’ve had to quit, it should not be that tough.
AND… since I’ve been going on and on about this for days (and weeks) now, I’m just gonna cut that topic right now. Instead I’d like to meander west where the sunset lingers a little longer and a person can sit with a hot tea and enjoy some poetry. A place that’s warm and safe where sleep comes easy and stays a while.
But what to say, what to say? Perhaps an update in my attempt to quit the benzodiazepines.
I’m almost done with the lorazepam. That’s good news. I’m down to a sliver of a dose every two or three days which I only take to alleviate the nasty withdrawal symptoms. I was told it takes about 6 weeks after quitting it to really be free of it. I mean, everybody’s body is different and what I feel might be very different than the next person.
I struggle explaining what I’m feeling but at least I can now recognize what it is. I can associate my general teeth ache and dizzy-headedness as my bodies reaction to not getting what it thinks it needs. And to think I was once convinced that if I could get a good night sleep I could somehow fix those strange symptoms. I’m so sick of feeling this way and will be very happy when I’m finally free of all of it.
It’s been such a slow process and has taken a lot longer than I had hoped. Hard to believe it was June when I crashed hard and two months have passed since then. Hard to believe that it will likely still take me to the end of August (and 4-6 weeks after that) before I will be able to say I’m over it.
I’d love to say it’s the worst break up from a defendant relationship I’ve ever had, but it’s not. Getting myself out of life with Matt was way more painful and took a lot longer. So how tough quitting something is, is truly a matter of perspective.
Strange that came out of no-where just now. Not exactly what I want to be thinking about today. 🤣
It occurs to me that I love to start new things. I get jazzed about beginning. Give me a new day, tip-toes on the edge of the next big adventure. Anticipation is a delicious appetizer and don’t you sometimes just want to order every appetizer on the menu and skip the main course?
I want to start new projects and talk to new people and think about all the possibilities. The trouble with that is over commitment. The starting all the things and then being in the middle and not having enough time to do a thing well. Which is my other desire. When I do a thing, I want it to be done really well. I want to please people and maintain a certain reputation as a person who is an asset to have around. I can’t not care.
I try to convince myself it will be easy to quit and disconnect from work but the truth is that it won’t be easy. There’s no good way to end and I’m going to struggle.
As far as quitting my job goes, I have to remember that I mustered the courage to do it before and that it turned out great. That ended and the sun still came up in the same way the next day.
I need to frame this quitting business as an opportunity to do the other projects I’ve committed to even better. I can throw my whole heart into my lit mag startup and really focus on making that a success. I’ll finally have time to do more than just “barely getting by.”
And let’s not forget why I decided to get an MFA in the first place! I’ll be able to focus on my writing and really do something more with that than blogging every week. School forced that focus because of deadlines and expectations and now that that is basically over, what’s the motivation? Where will my accountability come from? What fire was started thee and how?
And let’s not forget the fact that I’m always feeling mediocre about my contribution at home and my parenting efforts. Now I’ll be able to better with all of that. I think that’s the part Jim is excited for and my kids don’t really know it yet, but it’s gonna be better for them too. Time is a hot commodity and I need to remember that as one thing ends, it opens the possibility for more beginning.
But not too many beginnings or I’ll be in the same boat as I am now. Is it an inevitability? Will I be able to stop myself from starting more things? Probably not.
It will all be ok as long as I can really cut the cord. Probably since that conversation is tomorrow I should think about the language and what I’m going to say. Probably. 😨🤔😱🤣
Yeah. No good way to end. No way around it so straight through the heart of it is best.