Pinot is my chemo

So, I’m bummed out a bit.

It’s Christmas. And it’s cold in Florida. I mean, COLD. Nineteen-degree windchill in the morning cold.

On Dec. 4 of last year the King Crackhead at my old job shitcanned the two most-productive employees. I was NOT one of them. But I figured my time was coming. After all, why keep competent people?

I was on edge until March 16 when I started my new job.

The prior year, I survived a round of Thanksgiving layoffs.

I’ve been dreaming of a side business that I hope will become a full-time one. It’s capital- and labor-intensive. And involves real estate. And overhead. And shareholders. Gah.

But at least shareholder meetings are annual instead of multiple-per-week events.

Next Christmas, I have no desire to wonder whether my days are numbered, and just how many are left. It’s not cancer, for Christ’s sake. But it sure feels like it. And pinot is my chemo.

I’ve had a lot to drink and I’m sure I’ve said too much. I’m cold and I’m sad and I’m really missing someone right now. I’m sick to everloving DEATH of feeling like I can’t live/work/love where/who I want because it doesn’t fit into someone else’s plan.

Plus, I decided to stop taking my Paxil. Sure, from the tone of this blog entry, it seems like I should go swallow six of them ASAP. But I’ll tell you, it’s the first time in a year that I’ve felt ALIVE.

I haven’t had an idea worth a good God damn in over a year. I’ve had one mood for 400 straight days. I’ve been complacent. I haven’t been hungry for change.

A few days minus my mother’s little helpers, and BOY am I seeing the world through my old eyes (with the new prescription!).

I’ve felt the stirrings of that old fire that used to define me. I’ve grabbed life by the balls and told it to turn its head and cough.

Where I’m stuck right now is whether to keep this hamster wheel going … or to jump into a parallel wheel … or to say fuck it because I’m not a hamster and I’ll take my chances in the water even though I have NO CLUE how to swim.

I’d rather dive in before someone throws me in.

And I’d rather cha-cha the whole way to my little dream side venture in my own time.

Comments closed.