Shit Job
I’m doing a terrible job as of late keeping up on promises to myself. I’ve given myself (crap, as soon as I typed that I realized that two sentences in I’ve already got a word of the day. Apologies) some challenges on being a better family member and friend but the goals I set just aren’t being met. (and now apparently I’ve decided to rhyme) I could make a lot of excuses here but none of them would change the results. It boils down to the fact that I need to accomplish things in my personal life not just at work.
If you can’t tell from that three car pile-up of an opening paragraph I slept like a person actively undergoing electroshock therapy. Meaning the brief periods of deep rest were interrupted by violent intrusive skull activity. This has produced a mildly cranky Tom with a side order of general malaise. I will eventually snap the fuck out of it and writing here just might help. The majority of my brain trouble is uncontrollable work thoughts.
This current gig of mine is incredibly fulfilling and until now it has been nothing but a joy. Lately however it has turned into a bit of a grind. We have shifted into a ludicrous gear as an organization and the pace has me feeling like I’m not completing anything. I think this happens with all employment eventually but I deluded myself into thinking that this time things would be different. It’s nothing I can’t survive but my eggs are scrambled right now nonetheless.
The busier I get it feels like the more I miss but unfortunately the need for money is still a thing so I will take a few more minutes to feel sorry for myself then shut the fuck up and get back to work. This latest development does have me rethinking how long I want to operate at this pace. I know I can never retire and not just because I don’t have the money but I need to work because I am easily bored and have no hobbies that I can do on repeat. I admire those of you that can lock in on a pastime and make it a focus. That ain’t this guy.
Cases in point: I can barely tolerate 18 holes of golf and Pickleball feels like Special Olympics tennis.
My attitude has always been. I came to this job looking for something different and I’m gonna leave the exact same way and I really have a feeling that that’s gonna continue throughout the rest of my life. As for the rest of that life… I have had some old friends reach out lately and the number one question they ask is why I changed my mind about dating. The best answer I’ve come up with is a take on something I read that said human beings want to have a witness to their life. I’m sorry I can’t remember where I read that I would love to give credit where credit is due, but I read a lot of things and don’t pay close attention to most of it. My brain is like a fly trap as I am in little control over what exactly sticks.
The sentiment of that thought is what really sticks (shit, here we go again repeater guy) out to me though because it is nice to have some a witness to the boring nonsense of your life and for me I need someone who is my opposite. The idea is to get a different perspective on the things I see and feel. That basically sums up m y current relationship and it has taken me a long time to figure out why I enjoy that pairing.
Someone who is too much like me will get wound up by the same things that I do will be upset by the same things that I do and will not be able to give me a different perspective or calm me down because they’ll be right there beside me getting spun up and angry. I am generally calm (it’s starting to feel like I’m repeating words on purpose) and logical to the point where someone wearing their emotions on their sleeve is fascinating to me and I’m drawn to it… probably because I don’t/can’t. But that’s not the reason that my friends don’t (I give up) understand my current circumstance.
Those who have been with me since my marriage broke up more than six years ago now know that I was never going to let anyone close to me again. That’s the way I operated until fate led me to now. That’s was a shite explanation but kind of on brand for this post. Plus, in the sage words of personally beloved sitcom character Ron Swanson “If you don’t believe in love, what’s the point of living?”