This will be a long note. I hate long notes. I never read them.
One year back at work. Wow!
I’m not sure what I think of it all. I’ve put off writing this note; I was waiting for an epiphany that never occurred. You’d think a year would create a tidal wave of good mojo, but I am frustrated I guess.
My wife gave me an out a year ago. She said I could stay at home and she’d work for a while. It was very tempting, but at the time I felt a deep debt to the organization for supporting me while I was sick. As time passed on and my workload increased to before cancer struck levels, I felt my balance sheet changing and after a while my, emotional debt felt “paid in full.”
But that is not what I am about – or at least never has been. Something is changing. Fighting for ones life and coming back to the same situation somehow seems meaningless. Then again, maybe this isn’t about meaning, or perhaps I’ve just been looking at it in the wrong place. It’s hard. You spend the majority of your waking hours at work and you can’t help but be tied to it in some respect, but then again we had this great saying in the Army, “Graveyards are full of indispensible men.” So …
My dear friend is very sick and it is likely she will not recover. I bet she wishes for a meaningless job. So what the hell am I whining about? I guess it’s a Maslow’s hierarchy of needs thing.
I can’t summon up any sarcasm today. My friend’s situation and my funk are too hard today. I know I should be thrilled, but I’m not. This all probably a bunch of whining to you guys in the middle of the battle right now, and I kinda’ apologize. Hell if I said this to myself this time lat year, I’d hit myself in the head with a book right on my Ommaya.
I’ll be in a better mood manana.
Love to all,