I will disappear.
And of this week what can be said,
Sewer backups, an old man dead.
The moon fell down, my fish is dead,
And here I sit, alone in bed.
I think I already mentioned the fun of the constantly overflowing drain at work already. The next night, a man died walking into our bar.
Speaking of deaths, Fred, my surprisingly long-lived fish, also died this week. I sent him to his watery grave, and now there is a champaign glass filled with random glass beads sitting where his bowl once sat, I suppose in his memory. Though, partly, it's there because I couldn't think of anywhere else to put the beads.
Yesterday, after the 17th marching band playing Christmas tunes went by my window while I was desperately trying to get a bit of sleep, it occurred to me why some people hate the Christmas season. Now me, well, I've always been a cynical person. So perhaps it seems strange that I've always loved Christmas. Well, it's sort of a love-hate relationship. I love the ideas behind the holiday. Family and friends gathering, the exchange of gifts, the idea that once a year, it's time to take a break and be kind and thoughtful and celebrate with the ones you love. At the same time, Christmas has always made me sad. Every Christmas, I feel a sense of loss. I get to missing my family, missing old friends, missing past lovers. I get very reminiscent in general. Not that it's anywhere near Christmas yet, which caused the MASSIVE CHRISTMAS PARADE going by my apartment to be even more annoying.
I expect this years holidays will be a bit rough. For one thing, it really looks like I'll be stuck in Toronto for the duration. Partly due to financial recuperation, and partly due to having a new job who's busy season falls right during the holidays, and partly because I'll be alone. And while cat's love eggnog and wrapping presents, it's not quite the same.
Today was my day off, but I only get one this week, so it was a pretty busy day of running errands, cleaning up, and so on. I still have more stuff to do tomorrow before I start a 6 night run of closing shifts. Oh joy unending. To some degree, it is good though. I find that it's good to go to work and just work. I've been struggling still with a lot of moodiness lately, and work is a good distraction from it. I had a thought the other day that maybe part of why I like the service industry so much is that I'm addicted to the adrenaline and emotional high you get after pushing through a bad rush. It's like every day, you walk into, and have to tackle a new disaster. And when it's all over, and you handled it, you feel a sort of pride in yourself. And besides, I've always guiltily enjoyed disasters.
So as I've said, I'm really struggling a fair bit with what can only be described as a constant feeling of loss and sadness. Every day I have to fight to stay happy. The good news is, I am not giving up, and I am assuming that in some ways it is good for me to go through this. It is better to deal with your issues than to keep things bottled up, or to remain separated from them, which is my normal coping mechanism. On the other hand, I know that being unhappy is not good for a person long term, and I'm hoping I pull through soon. I was listening to that Beatles song, "Help!" today, and I think I am kind of in that space. I do need help. I need people in my life to help me through this. It's a hard thing to admit. I'm not the kind of person who has ever looked to others for help. I've always been one of those "The Lord helps those who help themselves." types. So I keep pushing on. I am more humble now, and I am thankful for the people I have in my life who have been there for me.
The question of the day:
Is love constant, or is love like trains changing at random stops?
Sewer backups, an old man dead.
The moon fell down, my fish is dead,
And here I sit, alone in bed.
I think I already mentioned the fun of the constantly overflowing drain at work already. The next night, a man died walking into our bar.
Speaking of deaths, Fred, my surprisingly long-lived fish, also died this week. I sent him to his watery grave, and now there is a champaign glass filled with random glass beads sitting where his bowl once sat, I suppose in his memory. Though, partly, it's there because I couldn't think of anywhere else to put the beads.
Yesterday, after the 17th marching band playing Christmas tunes went by my window while I was desperately trying to get a bit of sleep, it occurred to me why some people hate the Christmas season. Now me, well, I've always been a cynical person. So perhaps it seems strange that I've always loved Christmas. Well, it's sort of a love-hate relationship. I love the ideas behind the holiday. Family and friends gathering, the exchange of gifts, the idea that once a year, it's time to take a break and be kind and thoughtful and celebrate with the ones you love. At the same time, Christmas has always made me sad. Every Christmas, I feel a sense of loss. I get to missing my family, missing old friends, missing past lovers. I get very reminiscent in general. Not that it's anywhere near Christmas yet, which caused the MASSIVE CHRISTMAS PARADE going by my apartment to be even more annoying.
I expect this years holidays will be a bit rough. For one thing, it really looks like I'll be stuck in Toronto for the duration. Partly due to financial recuperation, and partly due to having a new job who's busy season falls right during the holidays, and partly because I'll be alone. And while cat's love eggnog and wrapping presents, it's not quite the same.
Today was my day off, but I only get one this week, so it was a pretty busy day of running errands, cleaning up, and so on. I still have more stuff to do tomorrow before I start a 6 night run of closing shifts. Oh joy unending. To some degree, it is good though. I find that it's good to go to work and just work. I've been struggling still with a lot of moodiness lately, and work is a good distraction from it. I had a thought the other day that maybe part of why I like the service industry so much is that I'm addicted to the adrenaline and emotional high you get after pushing through a bad rush. It's like every day, you walk into, and have to tackle a new disaster. And when it's all over, and you handled it, you feel a sort of pride in yourself. And besides, I've always guiltily enjoyed disasters.
So as I've said, I'm really struggling a fair bit with what can only be described as a constant feeling of loss and sadness. Every day I have to fight to stay happy. The good news is, I am not giving up, and I am assuming that in some ways it is good for me to go through this. It is better to deal with your issues than to keep things bottled up, or to remain separated from them, which is my normal coping mechanism. On the other hand, I know that being unhappy is not good for a person long term, and I'm hoping I pull through soon. I was listening to that Beatles song, "Help!" today, and I think I am kind of in that space. I do need help. I need people in my life to help me through this. It's a hard thing to admit. I'm not the kind of person who has ever looked to others for help. I've always been one of those "The Lord helps those who help themselves." types. So I keep pushing on. I am more humble now, and I am thankful for the people I have in my life who have been there for me.
The question of the day:
Is love constant, or is love like trains changing at random stops?