Skip to main content

A work in progress. Just not THAT work.


My work life has been spotty at best the past two years. My job at Company A (which I adored and would go back there in a heartbeat) got budgeted right out of existence. I was totally bowled over - never saw it coming.

That meant months on unemployment and serious financial pinching.

I was hired by Company B (alas, no bugle boy), an organization who's business plan was written by blind and deaf chimpanzees. It was unpleasant, in the way that diarrhea is unpleasant.

I was having some issues with the way things were done, and my understanding of processes that I had not been hired to do. My tenure there lasted 2 weeks. Good-bye.

Then, a round of interviews for a job with the local diocese. Sure, it wasn't what I was looking for but I could easily do the job.

Or so I thought.

My last two jobs have taught me something: my brain does not function the way it used to. Oh, I'm not saying I've got a serious medical condition having to do with my brain. No, it seems as if the trauma of the past two decades, along with depression, anxiety and the meds used to treat them have taken a toll.

You don't need to believe me, by the way. You can read many, many articles about this.

The best way I can explain it is that it's like being partially deaf, partially blind, and limp. With time and compensation, a person can certainly live a normal life by focusing on "work arounds." But there will always be circumstances that are difficult: a noisy and crowded party for instance.

I haven't figured out my work arounds. If my brain can still function in some ways, I need to figure out how. As I told my new therapist, "If this is who I am NOW, then what am I now capable of?"

I am not at all unhappy. The job I just left was literally going to give me a heart attack. By Sunday afternoons, I was getting sick to my stomach at the thought of having to go back to work. Walking into my office: it was a crap shoot as to whether or not I'd have a panic attack. I could not eat.

So, a week ago Sunday, I was at Mass. I told God: "Look something has to give. I'm going to have a heart attack. You know this is not working for anyone involved. Give me a break, God!"

In spectacular style, God came through. I walked into another performance last Monday morning. My boss went through the list of concerns (which I had memorized), and was once again agonizingly awful. Finally, as the review wrapped up, and my boss set the date for the next review, I asked to speak with her in private. (Yes, there were others present. Just in case I had a shred of dignity left.)

I said, "This is stupid. I'm not making improvements. You've been more than generous. But one more week won't make a difference. I would quit today, but I need unemployment."

She straightened up and said, "I'll fire you today, if that's what you want."

It was. I walked out of that building on a cloud. The weight of the world was off. For now, I'm happy to just be. I'll find my way.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Trying to "end run" God

If you're a football fan, you know what an end run is. From Merriam-Webster:
a football play in which the ballcarrier attempts to run wide around the end of the line We try to "end run" God a lot. I do. I figure I know better. I've got this - no need to worry the Big Guy about such a trivial thing.

Of course, it never works.

Like the puppy above, when we try and evade the tough obstacle (even though we KNOW we will eventually have to do it), we end up - well, off in the bushes.

But oh! How I wished my way worked. I'd love to take a flying leap and land smoothly and gracefully. People would be in awe, as if watching Simone Biles nail a balance beam routine that no one else would even attempt. I would shyly look down and blush - just lightly - and acknowledge (But humbly! Oh so humbly!) my achievement.

But no: I am the one pulling myself out of the bushes, scratches all over my legs and twigs in my hair. I'd hear that gentle but loving voice of God saying, &quo…

Crossing Guard

I saw you
today
as you guided
your little man across that busy street.

You were wearing some
big man boots
and
watching cars and lights.

Your little man had on
black sneakers and
a Mickey Mouse hat
that bounced
as he walked.

He wasn't watching nothing but
your big man boots
and
the white stripes of the crosswalk.

Just before
he got to the sidewalk again,
his step bounced a bit
- he hopped over
a spot where the asphalt broke.

You turned to look,
holding out a hand to
your little man.
Not rushed or angry,
just making sure
he got up
on that sidewalk.

Then you walked on,
in your big man boots,
face into a cold Michigan wind,
with the little man behind,
his hat bouncing.

Be Transfigured

From today's readings: 

Jesus took Peter, James, and his brother, John, and led them up a high mountain by themselves. And he was transfigured before them; his face shone like the and his clothes became white as light.

...we possess the prophetic message that is altogether reliable. You will do well to be attentive to it as to a lamp shining in a dark place until day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts.

Today we celebrate the Transfiguration. For whatever reason, Jesus brought three of His disciples to Mount Tabor to witness this miracle. They weren't sure what they were seeing, but they knew enough to throw themselves to the ground in the presence of Almighty God. St. Peter (who never did anything halfway) excitedly declares that he will erect tents on the mountain as a way of memorializing the event. But Jesus tells him and the others that they are not to tell people what they witnessed - at least not yet.

In the second reading, the requirement to be quiet has bee…