(no subject)
I think this year is going to be a year to simply survive, to hold on until its over and I'm on the other side. I have a constant feeling like that first speedy rush of an acid trip, when thoughts become wildly divergent, the stream of consciousness turns into class 5 rapids, and chaos whispers and jabbers around the edges of the conscious mind. Luckily, chaos and I are old friends just halfheartedly going through the motions these days. Still, not a week goes by without its little catastrophe. My trucks sit in the driveway, one not running and the other with a smashed front end and a smashed rear bumper, and I've no time to get them fixed. The new transmission is still eating up part of my paycheck. I've been sick for six weeks now, and working 12- and 14-hour days and weekends most of those six weeks. My days consist of solving the daily crises of 400 people, as well as answering to a brutal corporate structure. By the end of the day, I'm too drained to even give a damn about my own problems. I'm utterly exhausted. I had to drop out of one of the two dance classes I've been taking, and though I like my job, I resent the hell out of work for ruining that for me. So many things I don't have time to get a handle on: The fence isn't up yet, my newest dog isn't spayed yet, my rat is sick, and there's the carcass of a 4' lizard in my refrigerator. I am very saddened by the latter. He was my baby, and I miss him terribly. Tomorrow morning I'll take his body to be cremated. I desperately want to just curl up and sleep for a week and get over this cold/flu, but it won't happen. Next week I have to go to the West Coast on a business trip. The week after that is already shaping up to be a busy one.
On the positive side, I'm not depressed, neuresthenic, anxious, or any of the other traits one might associate with such an existence. I'm happy to be able to work (for those of you who don't know me, I was disabled for a number of years, which sux a lot worse than working your ass off). I love troupe practice, even when I'm sick enough that dancing for two hours makes me feel like I'm coughing up my lungs. The choreography is wonderful, exactly the kind of dances I've always wanted to dance, which was never true with my previous troupe. I'm getting through the long work hours by reminding myself that it's enabling me to pay down my debt (see part about being disabled for years), so I can quit the field I'm in and do something interesting and certainly far less profitable. Oh, and last week the cleaning lady at work told me that I look too young to be the Director, then freaked out when I told her how old I was (heh heh...she couldn't believe I was a day over 26!). Since I was feeling particularly old and tired that day, it really helped. Lol! And it's spring at last...blue skies, birds chirping...whatever.
On the positive side, I'm not depressed, neuresthenic, anxious, or any of the other traits one might associate with such an existence. I'm happy to be able to work (for those of you who don't know me, I was disabled for a number of years, which sux a lot worse than working your ass off). I love troupe practice, even when I'm sick enough that dancing for two hours makes me feel like I'm coughing up my lungs. The choreography is wonderful, exactly the kind of dances I've always wanted to dance, which was never true with my previous troupe. I'm getting through the long work hours by reminding myself that it's enabling me to pay down my debt (see part about being disabled for years), so I can quit the field I'm in and do something interesting and certainly far less profitable. Oh, and last week the cleaning lady at work told me that I look too young to be the Director, then freaked out when I told her how old I was (heh heh...she couldn't believe I was a day over 26!). Since I was feeling particularly old and tired that day, it really helped. Lol! And it's spring at last...blue skies, birds chirping...whatever.