Thursday, September 30, 2010

THE POETS OF OLD CHINA
MARY OLIVER

Wherever I am, the world comes with me.
It offers me its busyness. It does not believe
that I do not want it. Now I understand
why the poets of old China went so far and high
into the mountains, then crept into the pale mist.



I tried to get away this week, to work on poems and stuff. I have a small apartment all to myself, where the only part of the world I let in are the cars that pass by and my friends’ e-mails. It ended up I needed to week to know how my world is affecting me. I now find myself free to write poetry and am processing incidents that have happened to me in the past ten years that will affect the next few weeks of decisions. They are being processed in an orderly fashion.

I don’t want to shut out the world all the time, but a few more days to write poetry and explore these feelings will be nice.

I’m not ready to face work.

Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Control



I was so sad and exhauseted I cried for like 24 hours, I thought maybe it was the milk because it was a brand I don't use very often, but this morning I don't have the regular sensitivities. There were so many great plans for the summer, and everyone worked really hard this summer, we worked overtime and I didn’t get to do all the things outside of work I had planned at the start. But we all really bonded inside. Now we’re going through a bunch of changes and coming off the high and people are going off in different directions and promotions and it all hit me hard, with a sore throat, runny nose, cold and tears.

Sometimes we get sick to weaken us and make us get right to the bottom of stuff, we get sick because we’ve been bottling stuff up inside, not seeing what we need to see, to lay it all out in the open, to be honest about things and see things, it beats down our immune system. Makes us appreciate what we had, and allows us to move forward, even when we thought we already had, even if we have to do it again and again. There are bigger things at work in this universe than I can ever imagine understanding; and I, and my confused emotions are only one small bit.

I keep going back and reading what I wrote to my friends who I leaned on heavily the last couple days, denounce what I was writing as as just sick rambling, but there are truths there.

I made it through, I saw what I had, what I learned this summer and I will take it on to the next thing that comes at me, the whole world doesn’t stop with a change.

I'm Ok now, but my body hasn't needed a break this much in a long time. I'm glad I fought for the vacation. I'm glad I started to cry that day at work and listened to that little voice that said, "you need this vacation."

The road trip tomorrow is off, I can hardly make it to the store to get orange juice without losing my breath and geting tired. This week is for rest and healing.

I planned many great and wonderful things to do on my vacation, and my body said, stick with reading the poetry, but take more naps and have more crys.

I think we can't expect people to love us the way we want them to, we have to accept the love they give, as they are able, and we have to love them as we know how. That's the lesson I learned.

Writing that makes me want to scream, because I want to have total control over everything. But thats a lesson for tomorrow.

Monday, September 27, 2010

Autumn Day



I was introduced to a singer today, and his music was beautiful. I played one song over and over while I was writing a letter to a friend, and after a while I thought ‘I have no idea what he’s singing about.’ I pulled up the lyrics and found out that basically, there were none. Now, like I said it was beautiful, and I didn’t think much about it, just went on with my letter.

Later, I was sitting in my apartment and figured I needed to feed this hunger for poetry. I’ve never read a lot of poetry but I love writing verses and ideas in a list and call it poetry. Lesson one of writing, read a lot of what you want to do, and if it’s plays or movies watch a lot of them. But, other than the one or two times I would get overwhelmed by the poetry section in the library in the city, I really haven’t explored a lot of poetry.

I put on my I pod shuffle and walked down the hill to the library. Who was on the shuffle? The Band, followed by Robbie himself, Sarah Slean, Jonny Lang, and Michelle Branch; see where I’m coming from? I really picked up on “The Weight” I listened to it a couple times, it’s practically a novel. I love the story tellers, I love my songs to be stuffed full of words and images and stories. I knew my love for verse came from my music, but I really realized it this afternoon. I’m still listening to the shuffle, the musicians continue to be singer song writers, even my hip hop and pop is Timbaland and Nelly Furtado, and if you listen there are stories in there. Kinda.

The point is I borrowed 6 books of poetry from the library and bought just as many from the second hand book store down the street. Poetry, here I come.

Autumn Day
Rainer Maria Rilke
This translation is by Guntram Deichsel:

Lord, it is time. Let the great summer go,
Lay your long shadows on the sundials,
And over harvest piles let the winds blow.
Command the last fruits to be ripe;

Grant them some other southern hour,
Urge them to completion, and with power
Drive final sweetness to the heavy grape.
Who's homeless now, will for long stay alone.

No home will build his weary hands,
He'll wake, read, write letters long to friends
And will the alleys up and down
Walk restlessly, when falling leaves dance.

Sunday, September 26, 2010

Poetry Night is in Order



I was procrastinating in bits and pieces all day today, although there aren’t many goals for this week of vacation, I’m told a trip to the “zoo” may be in order and I wanted to take a look at this pile of poems over flowing from the clip board. They’re just a brainstorm; the first writing of ideas that have come into my head. Maybe the second time around if they were hand written in a journal. I put on some Mozart Violin Concertos and loved the piano so much I changed to Chopin after a few rounds. Not that it’s a big jump to find piano music playing in my apartment.

I anxiously looked at the pile and reassured myself I only had to pick one. I circled what I felt was good imagery and pointed out what was telling and I brought it up on the computer and started randomly changing lines. No aim, no goals, no central theme to base it on. That failed. I actually got tired, I curled up in a little ball on the couch and said, this is the same unsuccessful way I’ve been writing for years, but my brain has changed, especially over the past year.

So I played the piano, started with scales up and down repeating a pattern I start with every time I sit down. It puts me in the zone, and someday my ears will understand it. What are the patterns and repetitions I want to see in my own poetry; what do I see in other people’s work that I can use in my own?

I also went for a run this morning, and as I ran up the same street I try to run every second day, there were a mound of mushrooms. I expected to come back from my run, take a shower, step back into my around the house cloths, march up the block, take 5 pictures of mushrooms get board and come back. (Note to self, probably not a great idea to go outside in September with wet hair when you have a sore throat.) I came back with over a hundred pictures. There were more fungi in people’s front yard than I ever imagined, there are still beautiful flowers, and now the leaves are changing as well.

But there are patters in the colours of the mushrooms, in the lines all over them, the spots on them. There was the constraint of five pictures in the beginning and when I let go and explore there were 100’s.

The poem I have in front of me is constrained by the initial idea that I had written down, it is lacking the patterns that would make it part of nature, and the willingness of the writer to approach it over and over again like she would a simple grade 2 piano piece. Mmm, maybe there’s some inspiration and direction in there somewhere.

Saturday, September 25, 2010

duck billed platypus

At one point I had a baby placed in my arms and the poor thing screamed. I waited for the estrogen to kick in and let me do something to bond with the little one. Mom took her back, and she stopped crying. The toddler ran from one side of the room to the other and would randomly tell us something and we would agree. “You get that?” “Not a clue.”

I sat by Tink. I was a little bit like a fish out of water. I was the only one there without a partner. My party rules are show up on your own time (especially because it’s my vacation and I’m on Frosty time.) The Town got over at 5:00 (I highly recommend it.) I picked up food for my salad, and a fancy bowl from the dollar store, as I left my favorite bowl at my parents house. I fried my onions and boiled my Quinoa and wondered if I had time for a run. At 6:30, as I got everything packed up to walk up the hill; the phone rang.

“Are you still coming?”

“Yep I’m on my way.”

“Well, we won’t start till you get here; we’ll send someone to pick you up.”

They weren’t starting dinner without me.



After a while we rearranged ourselves around the room, the Trekkies were amused by the Star Trek popcorn bucket, and the girl carrying the popcorn bucket thought it would be fun to show me the popcorn as she ate it piece by piece.

“Oh,” That one looks like a poodle.”

“And this one?”

“A horse.”

Then she crawled up on my lap with her bucket of Chris Pine, Zachary Quinto, and Orville Redenbacher, and showed me each piece. At first I would look really hard at each piece, each one had to have a name, it had to look like something.

“That looks like an elephant.”

Approved and eaten.

And then, after a few, I realized that it didn’t matter what I said, what mattered was the action, that I was responding and talking to her, that we were playing and that we were sitting there chatting. So I didn’t worry so much about if it looked like a submarine or a duck billed platypus or as she pointed out a dinosaur, as long as it was somewhat creative.

I had a good day.

PS the Picture is not mine...

Friday, September 24, 2010

Whatever from Wherever


While I played the piano the spirits of whatever from wherever circled around me; I felt rich and that I wasn’t alone. Since I’ve started banging on the keys and trying to sing, I’ve heard myself singing on my free time, not just putting on music and listening to it, but singing along with it. Walking around the house and humming a tune. Paying more attention to the words the notes which, seeing as I have self diagnosed myself as tone deaf, is a little difficult. It is however, more beautiful and intricate then say two weeks ago.

I say spirits because many years ago, more then 10, my friend and I went to see a concert in a little church on the edge of town. I felt grown up, independent, and sat at the edge of my seat. After a few songs I felt this amazing feeling, like the souls of everyone in the church were being lifted and allowed to dance around each other. It was an amazing feeling. Today I felt surrounded by good things while I played and sang.

Note to self; find appropriate words for what you believe is spiritually.

Today was my first day of vacation. Spent it listening to Josh Groban and hearing how I messed up at work the day before. I guess I sent “someone” the wrong e-mail. “Someone” wasn’t very impressed. So between recovering from the night out, at the start of the week, and the promise of having a vacation at the end of the week, if my new job does start on the 4th, I will have left quite a mark on my last days on the e-mail team. Although we joked about it, it wasn’t my intention.

There are no tasks that are “do this by such and such a time,” although by Sunday (I need a few days) there will be a list of things to do. Talk to the bank, get pants hemmed (no this is not something I can do on my own) and have some adventures, really clean and organize the apartment, oh and of course read write and watch movies.

Living alone often leads me to day dreams, of what the future will bring, falling in love, getting a new job, having a great achievement. Today was the third time I stopped the day dream and actually wrote it as a story. I’m lost when I do it, don’t know how to make it a story, it just becomes a list of actions and speech. But writing it down makes it real in a way it would never be if it stayed in my mind and I can move on. And If I want to slip back into that fantasy, I can make a second draft.

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Go Forward


The next step is believing enough in myself to go forward in my job and in my life, to work towards not just making it through the day, not just doing the job and passing through the life that is presented to me, but living it to the fullest. To be aware and make deccisions.

In August they told me I was good enough to get a promotion. That it hasn’t happened yet does not make me any less worthy.

They put the e-mail team on the phones because we needed to make service level and got someone at night to do our e-mails. We all took it personally. Although it hurt, it didn’t make me any less of a person. It doesn’t mean all that has happened to get me to this point was taken away from me.

Just because I don’t have the new position yet doesn’t mean that I didn’t put all the effort into the interview. I was told I was very well prepared for the interview and that I did a good job. It doesn’t mean that all the information about past jobs and what I learned from them is any less. It doesn’t mean I can’t use that information again when I need it. It doesn’t stop me from planning the future.

I am still that person who was trusted enough to get the promotion. I’m still that person who was given the position on the e-mail team. I am still worthy, they can’t take the real me away. I’m still the person who has spent the last ten years working hard to get here. I can still be trusted and promoted.

Whether the past was a success or a failure I learned from it and it made me who I am today.

Monday, September 20, 2010

Sunshine, Wolf Blass and Katie Perry



I came home from work last night and there were 3 beer cans in my sink. It made me smile. There hasn’t been gluten in my apartment since I moved in. Beer makes such a statement. In the fridge is some left over wine that I had been drinking.

Cleaning out the beer cans reminded me of university, the Sunday morning when you had to clean the house and you retold the stories of the night before.

I dug through my music to find good stuff to listen too, afraid that she would feel the same about my music as my sister. I pulled out Alicia Keys and Jessie Cook. It passed the test.

We sat and told stories and talked and I felt real like; I had connected to a part I really needed to and I was connecting with her.

And then we went out dancing, ran into other friends, and I felt a sense of being free.

At one point I sat at the table drinking a water, listening to the loud music and remembering what it was like to be bar staff so many years ago.

Spent that morning with Tink. Just being ourselves, sorting through cloths talking about stuff, silences and inner thoughts and colourful creativity allowed. The day made me want to buy bright unique cloths that looked like it told a story. We walked around B'Town just enjoying the day. The bulk barn overcrowded with people and candy, the girls from work and the little ones, and lunch in a sunbeam.

I’ve said it before; I’m surrounded by great people.

Now the secretkeeper wants to hear about a crossroads in my life…

Friday, September 17, 2010

I’m a Big Piece of my Own Life… but really…


What if we have no concept about what really is happening in our lives? I write about being sad in the morning, I write about reading a book. I write about being happy. But there is so much stuff going on around me that I have no concept of. Who my friends are when they leave work, who my neighbours are, who I am to other people. How much more are we than what we blog and write about; our breathing our laughter, our walks in the park? Think of how much of our futures we know nothing about.

I used to watch the news in the morning but I stopped that, so really I have no concept about world views or politics at the moment, and have no place in it or opinion.

When we first say “hi” to a stranger we have no concept of where that friendship is going to lead. When they offer you a job and you take it, you have no idea where that job is going to lead you. There are things you assume; you get to start it and dive in, but sometimes the path is different. I found out I was hired for one job in a bar, by a friend/coworker. The current job is taking me down a path that I have no control over, couldn’t imagine when I applied, and I did try to control it at times.

I can sit and journal every emotion, write a poem about myself, or what I’m going through, but in the big picture of life how much do I really know? How much am I really aware of? How can I know more? This is not fear or sadness; this is awe, that I can do all this, that I have so many opportunities available to me. I can feel all this, but really it’s only a small piece of me, of life, of the world.

Thursday, September 16, 2010

Operation Emotion


So I did what a person was supposed to do when they feel sad, go to friends say: “I don’t feel good.” Say that it seems juvenile to pout over things that we have no control over. The supervisors are taking calls we can step up to the plate too.

And then I heard: “I understand, I feel it too.” And then I heard: “This week is a write off.” And then I thought, “what if what I’m feeling is real?” There’s stress at work, everyone is in different places doing different things. There are no more long chats with #1 this week 1.5 is on vacation, Tink is sitting beside me but we’re both on the phones and it’s a little harder to throw in a conversation. The e-mail team is putting their hands up and we don’t ask each other and figure out the best answer, because we’re doing other things. Domer and Redman are at school, so there’s no break time chats or random walks by the desk. Well they walked by the desk on Tuesday, but I was on the phone, doing my job, so I didn’t get to chat.

Plus, I said good bye to everyone last week and now I’m back, so that’s a little awkward.

I’ve put other things ahead of my writing; the boys insisted I watch Firefly, so I’ll come home and put an episode of that on instead of writing or bog hopping. Perhaps in a way I’ve gotten used to these strangers voices in blogs. And I’ve been putting the piano ahead of writing too, and maybe with all that is going on I need to do some more focus on how I’m feeling since my emotions are this strong.

I was listening to “king of anything” yesterday morning. I hadn’t connected with Sara Bareilles before; I didn’t think that she needed to be in relationships with guys that made her write songs like this. And then this morning I thought what if it’s not a boy, what if it’s an emotion? What if I personified this loneliness talked to it understand it made it as alive on paper as it is inside me and I understood it better, where it visited me, how it made me react to other people. I think that’s what I’ll do in the morning.

I said “yeah you silly emotion, I’m not drowning, who made you king of anything?”

What if at 30 *cough* I get real emotions? And I can sort them out?


ps stayed up past my bedtime blog hopping very nice

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Illusions


Although a few weeks ago I said I was enough, this week I want more than who I am right now. I’m still doing e-mails as my job has been pushed ahead and my pride and my ego have had taken a beating as I have had to take phone calls the last two days. I’m not the same person I was two months ago, and that’s how long it’s been since I’ve taken calls, I’m not as patient and not as willing to sit there and have people get mad at me. I have to put myself back in a place to handle it while still staying true to the person I’ve grown into.

I want to have more time to work on things, to write, to read to play music, to run, I’ve been wanting to make cookies since Saturday and been wanting to make muffins for like a month now, and still haven’t gotten to it. I want to move back to the city, and be close to the arts, even though I don’t have enough time now to do what I want in the country without distractions.

A while ago I wondered what I sacrificed to be who I am. I couldn’t see it. There are many options I guess I could have chosen for my life, but you never see the life you didn't choose, I don’t know what would have happened if I had made other choices. When I chose to move to catering I wanted to be around people, when I went to the hotel I wanted to work on getting well. I spent ten years trying to cure depression. Friendships and relationships, although present, have taken a back seat and I’m used to dealing with myself. It was the only choice I had, that I could see.

This week I’m feeling a little lonely despite my freedom, I guess the grass is always greener on the other side. I was warned about this too, choosing to follow your dream of art will leave you feeling lonely. So that is my new goal I guess, to feel explore that feeling. I’ve been scared of that feeling, but I guess it makes sense to feel it. I’ve been afraid to write because I don’t want to write and have people say, “well, look what you’ve got and it’s great.” It is great, I’m spoiled and I’ve got the life and the health I was fighting for. But now the goal is to deal with the loneliness that has come with it. It’s taken a few days to get here and lots of letters to friends.

I've dealt with this before; two steps forward, one step back, it's new this time. I'll embrace it and see what lessons there are to learn.

It’s ok to feel lonely, it’s ok to be good enough and still want more. It’s ok for things to take a while to become clear. I do have great friends around me; this is something new inside of me.

So this is it. This is the big emotion. This is what I keep coming back to. It's not one of those things where you write a blog about it and it goes away. This emotion keeps coming back. So now I need to explore it and sort it out, understand what parts are illusions and what parts are real.

Sunday, September 12, 2010

Different Place


I had the day to myself. So I wasn’t influenced by the thoughts and ideas of other people. I went for a walk where I wanted to. Saw the pictures I wanted to take and took them. Followed a bumble bee through purple flowers, stood on the edge of the river bank and wished I had sneakers on so I could climb down. I listened to the music I wanted to. I was caught in the rain and was indifferent.

I ran harder and faster than I’ve run before. Started a new book by Philippa Gregory, which is very different than a Cormac McCarthy novel, but I wanted to read something different.

I’ve been avoiding my writing, my poetry. Right now it's hard.

I’m writing from a different place. I’m not floating in the clouds. I’m kind of grounded, writing what is around me and what I’m really feeling there’s no confusing images that are pretty but rooted in a riddle, it’s solid and there are experiences and feelings that I’m aware of. It’s just what it is. There are no images of rivers and dragons and unicorns. I don’t go into a trance and write what comes out. I’m aware of what’s going on around me. I don’t doubt that I will get those images back, but they will present themselves in a new way.

Yesterday there were memories of what I lived like in the city; very different than here.

Friday, September 10, 2010

And Another Chance to Grow Up


I’ve been thinking about doing it for a while now.

Every time I open my locker, shit pour out of it. It’s a big locker and today I realized it held more than I thought. I knew there were some papers from the program that ended two and a half years ago and a few pay stubs, but there was so much more. There must have been a hundred sheets of paper piled in a nice little pile. Two pairs of shoes, one pair I knew was there because I wear them in the winter time after I take my boots off, or if my sneakers are wet, the other pair I totally forgot I owned. Three bottles of hand sanitizer, one was empty. Two umbrellas, a colouring book, a Sudoku book (that’s actually not mine; and I suck at them). Then there was all the stuff that I kept, the universal studios sweater because my body temperature mirrors that of a snake, the Lai number one cleared out of her desk and a monkey towel that I won and use if the sweater is at home.

Why now? Because I’m more responsible than that; I’ve been keeping my apartment organized, so it doesn’t take all day to organize if someone comes over to help make pie. It still needs work, but it’s not as bad as it was.

The locker is a part of me, and the thought of me knowing that it was filled with a lot of junk that could be thrown out motivated me. I’ve been thinking about it for a while, but after nine and a half hours at work I don’t want to stay and play in my locker. I did nine to five the last two days, so I didn’t mind going through it all. Although the company has recorded some sweet footage with the surveillance camera pointed at my locker. A&E would probably pay good money for it.

We were talking about being responsible at work and stepping up to the plate. Accepting the responsibilities that came along to you and some of the sacrifices you have to make. If I ever do get to be QA, there’s going to be a lot of changes, I realize that doing two days of nine to five, and I’m still sitting with a lot of my friends. I know I’ll be giving up a lot, but it’s time to take another step. Even if it falls through, I still made the step forward to take on the responsibility, and accept the changes.

There are two e-mailers on vacation for the next two weeks, so I still have a home on the e-mail team for a while. Hopefully after that there will be some decisions made about my future.

The promises all sound good, I'll work towards it, and I'll believe it when I see it…

Mish Mash Of Thoughts


Last night I was checking Facebook and Michael Kaeshammer, was playing in Winnipeg. Trust me that’s a few days walk from here. I thought: “If I were rich I would book a flight, and spend the weekend there, take in a concert, and do some exploring.”

I guess it’s relevant because there are things that I want to do. I want to be able to see good music again, to see other cities. There’s a goal I can reach for I guess. There’s a need to get away, see something new. Not know the area I’m in like the back of my hand. Be in a place where I need to be fully awake to walk through it. That way I don’t get lost, I won’t miss something, because I will probably never be down that street again.

My friend’s status is “London and Tea with the Queen,” now whether she’s having tea with the Queen or not, I don’t know, but her job takes her all over the world. I guess when I was little, and deciding what I wanted to be when I grew up, I didn’t realize that a job could take you all over the world. I always saw it as something you needed to do on your own. I didn’t think studying law would lead to something so exciting.

My jobs, have given me great opportunities to do what I needed to do, and find pieces of me that were locked up. But there’s always the future. Until then, I’ll see if I can whittle a vacation week out of my boss before October.

Wednesday, September 8, 2010

All the Pretty Words

When I was young I had a dream, I followed it to university. I wanted to be an actor, a writer, and people led me to believe I had the talent the drive and the determination to do it. When in university, I realized that what was going on wasn’t for me. There were other things I had to deal with, other things I wanted to feel. I knew then that I would find my way back to it. That was 14 years ago. Today I’m a very different person. When I explain to people, that I was bar staff, or that I would run around the city in my bare feet, they can’t imagine the me that I was. But even when I’m taking calls at 9:00 at night, even when I’m answering the 60th e-mail of the day; or the first e-mail of the day there’s always a part of me that has a dream.

I am always in love with something, sometimes it’s the size of the last ember on a match, sometimes is the whole fire hot and dangerous. Sometimes I guess I just need to take the day and find that ember and burn it like a flame again. Usually I keep it to myself, it’s a dinner I'm making, an idea I wish I had the power to write about, a piece of music and so on. Today it was a book and some tv that brought me back.

I finished All the Pretty Horses, and pulled out a line I liked.

“He stood at the window of the empty café and watched the activities in the square and he said that it was good that god kept the truths of life from the young as they were starting out or else they’d have no heart to start at all.” -All the Pretty Horses Cormac McCarthy.


Really there are a couple sentence rules broken there, more than one “and,” a few ideas that could be broken up, oh yes, and quotes on the speech (if you’ve read CM you know they don’t exist). But you’ve got an empty café, and a young couple getting married across the street and the idea that if they knew what this 16 year old cowboy knew about life and love, they’d not have the heart to keep going.

I watched another episode of Firefly, I’m on disk two. Domer and Redman decided I needed to see it, but I couldn’t borrow Domer’s copy because I don’t have blue ray. So Super K “offered” his copy even though he hasn’t watched in yet. I’ve set my hawk eyes on those disks, to make sure nothing happens to them, and I’m the only one here.

I’ve been pulling quotes, and today I pulled a quote where four people speak, and saw how all the other scenes were broken down into little groups. I’ve been searching for the formulas to things for a while, but the way I was sick I couldn’t see or understand things like this. I got it today.

The quote is not deep, it’s fun, it sets up a joke. It’s a breath of fresh air after these past few days. How can I take these two examples I found today and my own rules in my own writing?

Jayne: What we need's a diversion. I say Zoë gets nekked.
Wash: Nope.
Jayne: I could get nekked.
Wash, Dr. Simon Tam: No!

I've always loved "one liners" and punch lines when they're done right.

That’s two things that popped out at me today. I don’t know if I explained it right. But I understand what I see.

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

Pushing Through

Most of the time I can be as sick as a dog puking up grass and still see the positive side of everything. I’d be like “Hey that grass is still green, cool!!” Or “that was the stir fry I had for lunch (dramatic pause) that was a good stir-fry!!” But the last two days have not been as good as I would like. The weekend was great. There was supposed to be a hurricane, so I got all my errands done on Friday and spend the rest of the day in front of the fan, writing journals and listening to music.

Saturday I continued writing and listened to the rain. In the evening I went to see “Going the Distance” with 1.75. She likes to get there early so we spent 45 minutes talking and spent the movie laughing till we couldn’t laugh any longer.

Sunday started out ok and then something happened. I got to work at 12 and at 4:30 RTA (job title) came over to my desk and said “You didn’t swipe in.”

I held up my swipe cards, as if holding them up would make a difference, and said “Oh.” Really there was no way to argue, who remembers swiping in when they do swipe in, let alone when they forget.

“And you were late too?”

I answered “No, I was doing floor support, so I didn’t log into my phone.”

“Well we have no record of you being here until 12:30.” At which point he hummed and hawed about having to call the boss and to see if I would actually be paid for that half hour and if I would get a late marked on my attendance. That was eventually cleared up.

Monday was a holiday and not very eventful. But there’s this dark feeling looming. I want to be excited, really I do. The 9th is now the day I’m supposed to start my new job. But today I have to go into work and see if I get Wednesday off. There are no illusions, I feel like they could change the start date on me again.


Yesterday, I heard “Are you STILL with us?” “Followed by “What will we do without you?”


My thoughts: “You’ll get someone else to do the laminating; it’s really not that hard...” Well the hard part was tracking down the laminator, but I’d done that before, and followed the bread crumbs, so it was easy this time.


SK started the countdown last night, “just one more e-mail day,” she said giggling as she left. Her excitement made me smile.


It’s a job now and I haven’t even started it yet. The excitement has been zapped away. I’m back in e-mail mode, like I could be there for a little longer; plotting out my next move, career wise, as an e-mailer. I would like to look in my own e-mail this morning and see a new work schedule sitting there. I would have tomorrow off and I’d be working 9-5 Thursday and Friday, and I could go to work and say “thanks guys” and look at my friends and say it’s really going to happen this time. I don’t feel it.


So last night I got off an hour early, read blogs and went to bed early, I could barely keep my eyes open. And this morning was just for me. I played the piano and sang (if that’s what you call it, man it’s bad) for over an hour, no run, only journaling and this. And yes this has made me feel a better. So I apologize for the wining. Just the way it is.


Photo by Mama Duncan

Monday, September 6, 2010

Forward


I see my heart is learning to be trusted
To be heard
It marches forward,
Let it laugh and sing, echo the good times and learn from the past

I see there are friends surrounding me
And they are included in what is real

I think that means the person inside
Becomes less scary to the people around me
Because it is less frightening to me

It took great steps to get here
And no matter what happens there will be hurt
Every step forward means an illusion of some kind is broken
And sometimes that means tears

And sometimes I don’t realize
What I need to tell people right away
Because I still don't understand it's complexities
The weaving I've started with my words

It has also brought great happiness, freedom, positive thoughts and feelings
These moments, and what they have given me
Can only be built upon

But I still need my hours to not exist...

Saturday, September 4, 2010

It's a Good Thing


This week has been good. I’ve been going to bed at pretty much the same time every night. Each night I put the IPod shuffle on my night stand before I go to sleep. When the alarm goes off I roll over, put the music on and listen to it for about an hour. Then I come out into the kitchen and make my coffee, eat my cereal, and if I’m afraid I’ll take a nap before the caffeine has a chance to take hold I’ll put in some upbeat music. Nelly Furtado, Michael Kaeshammer. I have found that I don’t want to give up or curl away from the world. The music right away keeps the depressing thoughts away, and where it’s my shuffle and not the radio, there are no words I don’t want to hear. All the songs that play have been handpicked by me.

I got the idea to do this because when I was in the city, the only way I could leave my apartment was to listen to music, get up and dance around. I needed to build myself up to walk through the concrete jungle and pass many, many strangers in the run of a day. So I thought why not try it so I can get through a morning.

Two days ago, I was awake before the alarm went off and when I put the music on, to just relax and follow the regular pattern, my body yelled excitedly; “GET OUT OF BED, there’s fun stuff to do!!!!” It may have only been once, but what a great feeling.

Thursday, September 2, 2010

Distracted


I’m distracted. There are things clouding my judgment; anger and misunderstanding. Waiting for others to get my life going, and I’m not that sort of person. If I’m told something will be started on a certain date, I believe in that and work toward it. And now I’m being asked to wait as start dates are moved forward. I have time to doubt myself and realize that I still need to be dedicated and ask questions. I’m being inspired by the people around me, to keep pulling my socks up, to keep engaged in what is going on.

My start date was moved forward to the 9th, two days after the agents start taking calls for the program I will be monitoring. Logically I’m ok with it, inside it’s frustrating.

I’m distracted by the need to problem solve and make decisions on my own. I was told that it was ok to make mistakes. I was told in order to be good at it I would need to make mistakes. So I guess that’s what I did. As I thought about it, I realized there were options that needed to be considered before moving forward, things I needed to look at on my own. Luckily I can go back and explain to the people I told the answer to that I was wrong, and that I’ll figure out the real answer.