I had the slightest of lulls during my shift tonight, trying to cancel out some noise and figure out what to take care of next in my stack of stuff. It wasn’t quiet by any stretch, but the thought just came in. I guess we could call it the epilogue of Sunday’s “I hate my life” realization.
It’s strange and sad because I think I might’ve figured out a way to get past whatever blocks are in my head and go full-throttle finding that thing I really want and need to do in my life, namely make a living from home and be able to be artistic and self-sufficient.
But I’m getting a little ahead of myself.
I spoke to a dietitian this morning, my 2nd meeting, and I’d actually woken up with the most terrible feeling in my stomach. Sour as hell and I knew it had to do with my eating last night. I had some stuff I hadn’t had all quarantine: fried chicken, a strawberry cream cheese danish, and mac & cheese. Why? Because that’s what the store’s deli counter had available before they shut down the shop and I was damned hungry.
And I promptly got sick because my body’s not liking that stuff anymore. Cue a night of getting up and down for reasons that can’t be explained (seriously, kept waking up without knowing why then went back to sleep), and a stomach that decided it wasn’t going to do what I wanted and be nice to me.
My body was ganging up on my stomach and taste buds; it reminded me of my stupidity this morning, practically beat it into my head (or, well, stomach). It was painful as hell, and I was torn between cancelling and going. Well, I went, but my stomach was churning like a sea saw at different points. I drank some water–very slowly–and hoped the feelings would go away (I’ve been half asleep all day because I only got to have about 1/3 of a cup of coffee and my brain wanted more). Well, eventually the ickiness went away, and I went on to work for the first time in over a week.
It started slow, and I was getting back into the rhythm of things, but I also was feeling pretty lousy because of a few students that just didn’t wanna do the work or pay attention, and that made it tough. Generally, the students were okay to deal with, but as I sat down and was flooded with work (and reprimanded a little because I was so out of it and absent-minded I’d accidentally worn flipflops to shift), I figured that I wanted out of this job as soon as I could.
Being out over a week while you’re still trying to get the ropes done isn’t so good, obviously, but I felt so slow, and like I wasn’t doing much correctly. Maybe it was tiredness being a part of it, or being thirsty and my voice being out of the habit of talking.
I just knew, half-way through shift and sitting there, trying to look (and be) my busiest so I didn’t end up voluntold to do more… I knew that there was no freaking way I was gonna stick with this job if I could make a living doing what I wanted to do most. Not even gonna help out to pad the account. I’ll stick a few months and move on, and I hope like hell I really can.
Or rather, at the papers I’m looking at, trying and failing to drown out the noise around me, or shuffle some things so nobody thinks I’m just passively monitoring… because I’m not, but I know what it can look like.
Today gave me an extra incentive I hadn’t thought of before: that the sooner I get my ass in gear, get writing and my brainstorming, use my imagination again and to it’s fullest, etc… the sooner I can publish, make some dough, and get out of my current job. I just hope I last enough months to make things good with the leadership (because it’s a naturally flowing workspace as far as folks coming and going depending on what’s going on in their lives) that around the 6 month mark, I can leave my good impression and just let ’em know I’m taking other opportunities.
But man, as awful as I feel right now, 6 months feels like a damned long time (well, technically 5 months at this point, since it’s been about 1 since I started). But it will take me some time to get my bearings and figure out the course I want to follow in my life to the best of my ability, and actually try to do my best and put it out there.
That’s always been the trouble: without a clear roadmap, I’ve floundered or chickened out before I could begin. I think this helps explain why I was always a pretty good student, but once away from that, my sense of accomplishment and ability went down the crapper. I was standing there with a path in front of me, but no road map, and I stumbled around getting lost instead.
So that’s what I figured: use this time when you’re trying NOT to quit and get good at reading again and using my imagination for the best again. So, trying to get the hell out of my current job is the top incentive, of all things. I suppose that should’ve occurred to me a month ago. At least it’s working on me now.
Perhaps tomorrow I’ll wake up early enough (and without the crap stomach) to really get things going on my projects… and clean this damned house.