Breaking Silence

You ever go to a job slightly toasted hoping that the boss might notice and fire you on the spot?

A job that is that you’ve no business being in. A Lame Crap Job — aka LCJ. A menial service-industry job at minimum wage or thereabouts that you do when you’re 16, not 59!

Anyhow, only two things stop me from showing up slightly tipsy.

  1. My impeccable work ethics. Damn work ethics! Bite me in the keister every time!
  2. My bosses. They’re decent folks, from what I can tell. No reason to screw ’em over by a forced firing. They’re already short-handed and can’t keep people.

Anyhow, 3:12 p.m. I’m on beer 2. Not much save I’ve not eaten. Must be at work in about 2 hours. The buzz’ll be silenced by then. Bummer. Some jobs are better endured in an “alternate state of mind.” Lives too. 🙂

Like Gum on the Shoe

Not exactly stuck. But dealing with a whole lotta grief, anger and other emotions in the sudden loss of my job last month. The death of a dream job. The bad guys, aka the dangerous duo, won.  Still need to finalize a letter to my (former) boss, a good guy, to enlighten him to things of which he’s unaware.

I’m dragging my feet on completing it. Though joyful and relieved to be away from the Dangerous Duo and a toxic situation, I dearly, sorely, deeply miss the job … when it was at its best. I miss working at something I love. Miss making money. Miss … so much.

I’m grieving. I don’t grieve well or quickly or thoroughly. Like gum on the shoe, I try to scrape it off and if it doesn’t all come off, I “just learn to live with it.”

The trait of Endurance is a fine one. But lets you accumulate WAY TOO MANY TOXICITIES AND BAGGAGE!

My final words on the subject. For now.

The Good Thing …

Good thing is, losing my job (ouch ouch ouch ouch ouch) set me free from a bad situation and let me travel! Which wasn’t possible while working 7 days a week!

So I hit the road pretty hard.

Logged some 1,500 miles (2414 km) in 5 days of driving … across northern Arizona into New Mexico then far into southern Arizona at the border then northward back home.

Soon as I got back (after returning only for the aforementioned dumb job, two days a week, 10 hours total, it’s that … ridiculous that I’m even doing it!),  I was itching to go again.

Planned to — for only a coupla days — ’til the roommate (yes, at 59, I’ve a roommate again, obviously can’t afford to live alone) — gave me terrific news.

He was going to his other house for roughly 2 weeks. Leaving me ALL ALONE.

HOME ALONE: Not the Movie



Remember your teen years? When the parents announced they were going out for an evening?

Mine seldom did but when it happened: THE UNIVERSE GLOWED BRIGHTLY!! White Light FLOODED my life, my being. In those 2-3 short hours when THEY WERE ABSENT!!

Really has more to do with a temporary reprieve from the war zone that was my family than desire to “party it up.”

Roommate George isn’t my father or mother obviously! But there’s definitely a suppression happenin’ (even if only on my end) to keep the peace.

He’s a good guy. And I LOOOOOOVE that he’s away!!! I can breathe!

So, due to his absence, I postponed the road trip. Obviously. No pressing need with him gone for 13 days. Once he’s back, I’ll head out weather permitting.

Where’d Time Go?!

Can’t believe it’s been like a month since the last post!

Yet I can.

Been a lot on my plate to deal with. A move. More than a move, a move from living solo to a roommate situation again (suppressed ugh).

Followed immediately by a sudden loss of job and income. That Lame Crap Job I’m tryin’ to drink myself outta – hahah

Flare-up of health issues.

I dunno. There’s a LOT about me, incl. all the good, nee great, stuff, that I can suppress. Repress. Deny. Refuse. Reject.

Travel. Therapy. True Joy.

Yet the one thing, ONE thing that just won’t be stuffed into a box shoved to the back of the closet … that essentially REFUSES to be buried alive … is the love of and need for travel.

The open road. The wheels rolling on pavement … the wind … the emptiness of a road …

it’s my therapy

my passion

an intrinsic need

the wind is my breath

the turning wheels my body in motion

my Subbie, we’re united, we’re bonded.

Wanna hit the road again so badly, roommate presence or otherwise

I’ve not written (or blogged) as I should or been on the road as I need.

Dunno how to achieve it with the chains of a dumb job ’round my ankles.

I’m down. Depressed. Done for today.

And gotta cheer myself up to go to a job I’ve no business being in.

“Life, why do you forsake me?”

“Girl, why do you ask for so little, so very little, for yourself? Why do you accept yourself as a piece of ant shit when you could be great? When you could shine?!”

“It’s complicated. Not for blogging.”

“Of course.”

“I got issues. Baggage. A mountain range of crap to clear. What does it take?”

“One word. Write.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Excuse. Always excuses.”

“You’re right.”

Then an angel breathed into my lungs: “The Word is your breath.”

That’s all s/he and I wrote … today, for now.


After the Job: The Road.

That was the plan anyhow.

How to celebrate the first day — days — off in some 9 months?

Hit the road!

Hit the highway for speed. An open highway is therapy. Road trips are therapy. Just me and the Subbie, the wind and the space. Bliss!

Get outta town. Go camp. Check out one of Arizona’s innumerable weird cool historic funky towns. Spur of the moment. No planning necessary except preliminary research about the location of primitive/dispersed  campsites. Aka boondocking.

Hit the road! Go! Go! Feel the wind. No. BE the wind. Listen to the sound of wheels turning. FEEL the car. Be one with her.

That was the plan Thursday anyways.

Then I drank too much. Not overly so. Just enough to give me a bone-cruncher Friday morning.

“I’ll try for Saturday. I’m not going far.” Only a coupla hours drive to a town in the middle of nowhere. Like so many Arizona towns. Just one of many reasons I resonate with Arizona! Don’t gotta go far (unless you’re in Phoenix) to find isolation, space, alone time, quality time with weird locals.

Saturday – yesterday – came. Got up late, got to yakking with the roommate. Next thing I knew, it was high noon!

Coulda gone, true, but it felt hurried. “Maybe tomorrow. Or another time,” I decided.

So I fulfilled my craving for the road with an appetizer. A jaunt to Jerome, an old mining town that survives / thrives now on tourism.

Been there several times before. It’s a great getaway for a day. An hour drive through mostly open Arizona desert, up through Mingus Mountain then winding the mountain into a mining town that died. Then got resurrected by artists and then tourists.

There’s more on Jerome, just not today.

Returned home early last night — about 8 p.m. I was wrung out and not feeling well.

By 10 p.m., my stomach was in turmoil. Heavy either from contents (beers half a big burger, ice cream) or something unsettling in the meat. Was a toss-up whether I was gonna, well, toss the cookies.

I didn’t. Yet wouldn’t have minded had it come to that.

Lights out at an obscenely early 11:30 p.m. Didn’t sleep well and don’t know why. Then awakened at an obscenely early 7 a.m. The roommate doing laundry. We discussed & agreed on a later laundry time.

So this, my last free day in a string of 4, is a kinda comedown. Tomorrow begins a VERY PT job — 10 hours a week — doing work I have absolutely ZERO interest in. Menial labor and menial wage. Again. {sigh}

I didn’t hit the road like I wanted. Oh well. The trip to Jerome did provide an appetizer, a mini-getaway. Today I feel wrung out, slow, low-energy, sluggish, sleep-deprived, blah.

Rather than uplifted and bouncy in step for days on the road.

Oh well.

There’s always … when this new job ends! Yes, already anticipating the end to this job one day before it begins!

Not a very exciting post. Then again, inner energy and enthusiasm are waning today.

What can I say but time sure flies when you have days off! I’m so grateful FOR the days off (due to end of job). I’d really forgotten what it was like not to have to be somewhere (workplace) 7 days a week!

In all, a fun and fruitful 4 days — though little got accomplished in the Road Trip Department. I LIKE having days to myself, free of responsibilities and Must Be Somewhere at X Time.

Nice re-familiarizing myself with free time. And re-acquainting myself with myself.

All for today. Toodles.

Brain Buzz & Head Fuzz

Wow! Was that one of the crappiest nights of sleep ever!!



Evidently our circadian rhythms and sleep habits cannot be commanded by will alone! I’d gone to bed early — midnight, for me — intending to rise early — 9 or 10 a.m. — for a road trip, drive time of 3 to 4 hours.

My brain admittedly was buzzing from many hours of online research of destination candidates and dispersed campsites. Dispersed = free primitive sites, sites of dirt and little more, aka boondocking.

The research alone can be tedious and time-consuming. Evidently got the brain cells whirring. By the time I switched off the lamp “early,” I couldn’t sleep.

Admittedly I’ve many more things on my mind as well. I tossed. I turned. The body couldn’t get comfortable amid painful new and burgeoning health issues. I switched pillows. Switched positions. Ugh ugh and ugh.

I kept glances at the glowing green digital numbers on the clock to a minimum.
You know how that goes. Insomnia. Brain Buzz. Look at the clock. Boom! You’ve just been given another half hour of wide awake.

It’s one of those unwritten Murphy’s Law. “Every glance of the clock during an insomniac episode returns 30 minutes of alertness.”

My body never did settle into rest; impossible lately with combined health issues and a bad bed that I cannot WAIT to boot outta my life!

Seriously. Another post for another day.

Eventually I did drift off, kinda sorta. Nearer my usual time around 3 a.m., I reckon. I quit checking the time. Murphy’s 30-Minute Law.

Result: My going to bed early so I could awaken early had absolutely no effect! Zero. Zip. Nada.

So the road trip’s off. I achingly (and I do mean achingly) tumbled outta bed — henceforth the Bed I Can’t Wait to Boot Outta My Life! — at the usual time between 11 a.m. and noon.

Much too late for the drive to the Arizona/California border. Wasn’t urgent or needed NOW! But soon. Next week perhaps I can pull it off.

Meanwhile, I’ve still got that itch in the feet that needs scratching … wanderlust to satisfy … a need for a change of scenery. Stressors an’ all.

Travel is my nature and road trips my therapy. Sometimes it doesn’t matter so much where I go, just THAT I go!

1:04 p.m. The day’s still young. Ain’t nuthin’ I’ve gotta be in town for today.

If I can sweep that Fuzz from Insomnia outta my head, I’ve still time to hop into the car and just go. Somewhere. Somewhere else. An hour or two down the road.

Find a decent budget motel. The rigors of camping after a bad bout of insomnia and fitness sleep is a bad idea. Ain’t 22, don’t have that youthful bounce-back.

It’s doable. Yeah, I’m a slow waker-upper. If I just clear that insomniac’s Head Fuzz and get ma move on. At 1:06 p.m., that’s sorta asking a lot. ;-p