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Thursday, Jan. 13, 2005 / 7:42 p.m. ~I Can Go Anywhere, Do Anything, I Mean It, So Make Me An Offer~ In my mind, I've started this entry several times, and each start was totally different from the others. I was going to note that I parked my car under a stand of pines, hoping their branches, their outstretched needles will deflect some of the rain that is due yet to fall, to prevent more seepage into my vehicle through the edges of the rusted sun roof. Let us pray. Or, I was going to write about the Egg-Sausage Casserole I made last night, and how it was pot luck all the way, and brilliant use of ingredients on hand, a variance of a favorite recipe, but in retrospect, and three bowls later, no, four including lunch today, I'd like to say no, that 'chicken with sun dried tomato sausage' paled in comparison to good old fashioned roll of breakfast sausage crumbled and browned, or browned and crumbled. The flavor is unmatched. Good, but eh. Not what it should have been. Full belly, mos def. This is a problem with writing daily in two different places, or maybe it's no problem at all, and maybe I should write more, and when I really think about it, yes, there is a paper journal, how could I forget? That one is just the facts, little elaboration, light on the 'feeling', so, three places. And if I'm feeling of a mood, could be four, and if all moods are present and accounted for, there is potential for a lot of writing, all over the place. So it is, I wrote the meat elsewhere, and I could copy and paste, the temptation is there, but then I have to consider prying eyes, and think 'Who's reading?'..., and but that was for there, and there should be something 'else' for here, and, well, I think I'm getting sleepy. Really, I have a little round belly right this moment. I don't mind terribly, it means I'm fed, and I have no hunger, and this is good, and it will go away in a few days. Still, fun. Ooooh, a fragment of a dream memory just popped in my head, like a flash. That's always so peculiar, like a reminder of someplace I've been, an adventure had recently. But nothing more. Okay, what to say, what to say? I've just twisted my knee, that will hurt later. It is still raining, but lightly, hopefully the storms will never come, or if they do, the car will stay dry inside. I intend to step away from this computer and watch some TV, as soon as I find a way to write what I should. Right, try again. "Try again later". We got a bit of a timeline today, at work. We had a big meeting, we had smaller meetings, it's real, reality bites, it is here, it has hit, we know, but we don't KNOW yet. We know: no more contract, no hope for future contracts, we are done. Finito. The end. We know this, end of April. Managers are going, gone, they will find new jobs. This is sad. Forget all I said, forget the bulk of the first few years of this journal, I'm sorry, bad karma and all that, you know I care for all of you people. I wish you the best. And, ahem, we get what we deserve!!! I've found that everyone has gotten what she/he deserved. And I am next. What will it be? The suspense is killing me, but not as fast as before. No, I'm in slow motion now. Will I be 'selected'? Will I stay on? In the 'new venture'? The possibility is there. But, alas, the jig is up end of April, as is my apartment lease, and we know this means I could do anything and go anywhere, within financial reason. Offers??? Anyone? Make an offer, we'll see. I'm available, and I'm considering all of it. I want to stay until they make their decision, have their lists in front of them, check off names, sit at a table and discuss each of us, call me in and tell me what they think of me. I want to hear it, after seven years I want them to say it, all of it. Tell me how much you love me. Offer me the new job. Or... let me go. Let me collect government cashola, let me relax a bit, let me think... think... think... time to think. Or, let me get off my lazy ass and write up the resume, bigger and better than before, and get out THERE, find IT, whatever IT is, do IT, DO IT, and start living again. Or, or, or, well, see, I can't write all of what I'm thinking, nope, wouldn't be prudent, but I can say that I am open, and I am of a certain age, and I am a different person than I was before, these seven years have changed me in many ways, and I think that despite my outbursts and emotional cathartic writing, I have hung in, and on, and I am steadier than most would think. I am calm and balanced, and you laugh, you scoff, you roll your eyes, but look, a twenty year old car, an eight year stay in this apartment, seven years on my job, two cats, aged 14, almost 15, and aged 13, almost 14. Two long term relationships, one five years, one six. You do the math. I can commit. I'm just sayin' is all. I'm just sayin'. Not to say I don't still start things and not finish, and I don't get hot and passionate about something and cool down later, only to heat back up again and again, and cool and heat and etc. etc., sure, I do, but as long as I am challenged, and there is a flow to the changes that come my way, I'm in it. It's all good, as they say. I have ideas, plenty, a virtual dang plethora of them, ideas bursting at the seams, ideas bursting from my seams, but which way to go has always been the question. I thought I'd be a photojournalist, once upon a time, no, an English teacher, a psychologist, a TV production assistant, no, producer, an editor, a writer, a welder, an artist, a chef, a hippie, a police officer, a wealthy eccentric philanthropist. A newly discovered duchess, a life lived in a royal palace, in t-shirts and jeans. No shoes inside! I don't know, I could do anything, I know I could, but what? What would make me happiest? Writing? Taking pictures? Basically, the question goes like this, who will pay me to do something I'd like to do? Or, if I do it, will I find a way to be paid? Is it something about doing what one loves, and waiting for the money to follow? Not when the rent is due, and the bills are due. I'm not only stable, I'm fucking responsible, and don't forget that either. I've two cats depending on me. And an apartment filled with stuff I'd rather not see strewn about on the curb. Too much to think about, this. Play by ear time. Wait, think, try a bit, wait some more, effort, laze, hmmmmm... So really, I think I'll lounge a bit, watch some TV, take some more Valerian root and pass out. Last night I slept well indeed. And today, when I found myself indulging in the road rage (I'm sorry, people here CANNOT DRIVE!), I quickly relaxed, but I do that anyway. Really, to veer off for a second, this is a perfect example of who I am: I've caught myself, on many occasions, going from shouting at the people driving the cars idiotically all around me, to saying, also aloud, "Wow, look at the sunrise!", or "OH!!! The Moon! Spectacular! I see the Moon, the Moon sees me...", or "Motherfucker, learn how to fucking drive! First day out, eh?!?!?!?", then "The clouds are so beautiful today..., I want to photograph them, paint them, I wish I could sit outside and just stare at the sky all day". Balance. Yin, yang. Losing my job, gaining another, which shall it be? When will it happen? We shall know soon, soon, it will come to pass. And all will be good. Offers? No, we shouldn't act hastily, not a good idea, but this is the time, this is it. Everything could change so dramatically I won't recognize my life, or... things can change a bit, only portions, small at that, only a new wardrobe required. Ack, the possibilites are mind boggling. It feels like there is an opening to slip through and start over, in a way, or several ways, or I can sit and wait for the opening to get bigger and then step through in a giant leap. Too many analogies, I'm saying the same things over and over, but different each time. That's it, I'm through with this entry now. Cost of the War in Iraq
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