Tuesday, June 01, 2010

Monkeys Banging Cans Together and Hitting Hard

I spent a lot of the day in bed, until about 1:40, at which point I dragged my ass up and proceeded to spend hours doing nothing and "getting ready". I went looking like a homeless person to Lupie's where I engorged myself on food and then swung by the ole Food Lion for the weeks lunch items. Since it has been raining profusely I have not gotten around to cutting the grass. The gutters are cleaned, though, and even still one of them leaks. This week I will have to find the time to push the mower around and stir up a tsunami of caulk and sealants. It's always something.

Tomorrow is my return to the workplace, my schedule has returned to "normal business hours", and I kind of dread it. I had my monthly "review" last week and my boss, who I am convinced is full of lies about where I'm headed there, could not let me out from under her wing without putting a scar on my papers (she will no longer be my boss upon my return as I move on to train for something else, with the "I'll believe it when it happens" promise from her that I'm intended to end up on the new project. My endless stack of papers that the corporate world keeps, tracking every time you take a piss or don't send an email that you did.

I've been depressed. I do try to think about the positive things. I try to take the advice of "three simple steps" from Ralph Martson. I just can't find the thing that I'm supposed to be good at and I can't avoid being distracted. I have a hard time mustering productivity in my daily life. I'm very concerned about work, and as a result, money. Both the stock market and the housing market have made me even poorer lately. My coins are oil and my life is the BP oil leak: I try to clog it up with a bunch of shit but nothing really works yet. I need to find a new avenue to fulfillment and security.

Owning my house is a wonderful part of my life. Despite the constant need for maintenance inside and out, I take pleasure in having it and keeping up with everything. I like the yard work, and I like cleaning. You can see your progress as you go. In most areas of life I can't. I can't see any progress or any going. That said owning this house anchors me in Charlotte in a way I've never been anchored anywhere. My horoscope (no, I don't believe in astrology) today said something about missing freedom that struck a nerve. I had just been talking about how I miss the freedom of not owning a giant hunk of bricks. I saw Sex and the City 2 over the weekend and though it was the empty, misleading burst of color and fashion that I expected, it did make me miss New York City. There's a lot I don't miss but the big thing I regret is leaving behind all those options.

In addition to Ralph's advice, I'm trying to incorporate a new philosophy. In the game of pool there is a saying that, "if you can't hit well, hit hard." If there's nothing that I'm really "called" to do, no passion of my own, no one true talent that pushes me to go on daily, then I'm just gonna start hitting hard. God knows it works wonders for some, who, like one of Jane Goodall's monkeys, get to the top by convincing everyone they're confident and making a lot of noise banging kerosene cans together.

The little spider in the bed of my truck was just gone today. The torrential downpours lately, the flying around in the bed of a pickup at 70 miles per hour, the high winds of the thunderstorms -- these things could not move the little spider. But of its own accord, it just abandoned it's home there and went somewhere else. Oh to be able to do that in my own life.

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