lack of options

Just shy of a year has passed since I started writing in this incarnation and I've mustered barely 35 entries. That's pretty sad.

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So before this blog takes a left-turn into 'bitch-bitch-bitch' territory, my birthday and holidays were lovely, if a bit sedate. I couldn't get away from Atlanta for either, but a dinner here, a brunch there, and a gracious invitation from my roommate's family to include me in their festivities certainly added a bit of warmth to the days.

I went and saw Benjamin Button today, and frankly... don't bother. It's an overlong, maudlin display of storytelling without an actual story. It took three hours to say nothing. I don't get the praise that's being heaped on it. I thought it was dreck, honestly.

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OK, time to bitch about work again. Second verse, same as the first...

I took some time off from work a couple of weeks ago, just after my birthday. It was a bad sign when the first two days I was off, I had to go in anyway. I did, however, manage four days in a row of not being there. It was refreshing, a chance to relax and leave it behind. I didn't go away (Priceline didn't want to cooperate), so I sat at home, ate cookies (Thanks Mom! They were great!) and decompressed.

What was disappointing about this particular time around was how clearly into focus it put my present situation at work. In the past, I've gotten to sneak away for a few days, relax, recharge, and come back ready to focus on the tasks at hand. This time, I came to realize that I've tuned out. After three and a half years of general neglect, boneheaded moves, extraordinarily inadequate pay... I'm done. I'm overworked and underappreciated, and frankly, I have more important 'me' things to worry about now rather than crawling on the roof to turn on the heat. I've been neglecting those 'me' things for the past year, and I can't do that any more.

Which brings us to a delightful catch-22. I don't generally know what I'm good at until I'm doing it... so transitioning into something new is always a challenge because I can't ever figure out where I'm going to land next. Plus, I'm actually seriously considering going back to school (shut up, shut up, I know, I've already heard it)... something not possible in my current position. So... a new job that allows full health insurance, enough time for school, and that won't sap me of my passion for life and allows me to work on myself a bit too... in this economic climate.

Yeah, good luck, douchebag.

I've thought about going back to bartending again... if you get in with the right company, insurance is included. It's somewhat recession-proof (times are great? let's drink! times are tough? let's drink!)... and if I land the night shift, I can make money and have the time I need for myself. I wouldn't call it progress, but it may be what I need to get myself back together.

like a rat

Oh, it's been a while. I actually had to look back to see what I'd written about.

I wish I could say that this was going to be a long entry because my life is so interesting and fascinating right now, but really, it isn't. Work is killing me, and my mind has been elsewhere. The more I think about it, the more I'm arriving at the idea that it's time to move on. My company is a sinking ship in this region, and given the recent spate of layoffs they did two weeks ago at the head office, I'd wager a guess we're next. Those layoffs have made our lives in the satellite regions sheer hell. Nothing is getting done, no answers for important questions, no support because all the people who backed us up before don't work there anymore. So, much like a rat jumping from a sinking ship, I'm looking elsewhere. There are a couple of options out there but I need to make sure this process is as seamless as possible.

I have some vacation time coming up in about two weeks... I may book a buddy pass and fly to NYC for a couple of interviews if I can.

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So... it's been a year. A year and two days, to be precise, since my diagnosis. And how am I doing with it? Well, the fact that I didn't fall horribly ill following Thanksgiving was particularly noticeable... first time in four years. In fact, no new hospital stays at all!

But then there's the mental toll... and that's been considerable. All you need to do is look at a picture of me a year ago, and a picture of me now, and you'll see it. And though I haven't shed even the first tear (I don't do crying), it's in the eyes. Well, the eyes and the waistline. Wish I could blame that on Thanksgiving solely (which, incidentally, was lovely!), but that won't fly!

And my birthday is in ten days.