Moment to moment

The swarm of emotions that come, hang around, and pass through my mind every day are a lot to take some days.  Let's examine last night, shall we?

So I come to work and I'm hit with an immediate kick in the ass.  I look at my schedule and it says I'm not only doing my area but another one as well.  This means I will be working with a coworker and I figure it will be a new girl, not my favorite thing to do but she appears quite pleasant.  Innocently I say to my boss, "I've never done the 204 schedule and then she drops the bomb. " You'll be working with Agatha (real name withheld for who gives a shit reasons) tonight, she is on light duty.  She can't mop or run the vacuum but she can do everything else."  In other words,  I will be doing most of the work tonight.  But let me describe this lovely contribution to mankind known as Agatha to you.  Agatha is at least 6 feet tall with a shoulder slump from a lifetime of trying not to be 6 feet tall. Her hair is completely white, permed in a style known simply as "the old lady perm".  This means, no self-respecting woman after a certain age would be caught with straight hair regardless of how stupid and tragic the ringlet curls and abrupt bangs look.  To go along with Agatha's no nonsense looks comes an equally wearisome personality.  I guess I'm a snob in this way.  You can only do so much with your looks but god damn it, you can fucking learn how to carry on a conversation!  And though it's clear to me this woman has not lead the easiest life, she has clearly chosen the self-righteous, sanctimonious style of small talk which grates on my last nerve.  The idea of spending the next eight hours with this nonstop joy factory pushed some words from my mouth that I could have normally held inside.  "Jesus Christ. When is this going to end? God damn it."  This coupling of workers  has been going on for some time now.  You see, people just can't seem to work without hurting themselves.  The hospital doesn't want to pay them for sitting around doing nothing on Workmans' compensation but they don't want the liability of people really getting hurt so they've come up with this compromise known as "Modified Duty".  Modified duty clears the hospital of some liability if the employee gets hurt but still allows them to milk them for all they're worth.  What it really does is makes the healthy employees work twice as hard and causes these uncomfortable pairings of people.

To my supervisors credit and that's why I CAN even stand working here, she didn't get defensive and said "I'm sorry" which just sent me pouting on my way.  I did catch a break though.  Apparently, the idea of working with me didn't sound pleasing to Agatha either and the next thing I know, Agatha is feeling well enough to work alone and I'm back to my protective cocoon.  I gather my "toys" and head alone back to my own sandbox.

The night started out quite productively. I've got a plan.  I'm going to really dig in and get some good cleaning done and make this department happy with me.  Turning on my iPod, I decide on music tonight.  I love listening to podcasts and in many ways these shows have absolutely allowed me to keep this job but sometimes the conversations get on my nerves. The over the top laughter at each other's so-so jokes is a bit much.  NPR can suck the life out of any topic.  Music is calming, therapeutic if you will but it also allows the mind to wander in and out more than a podcast.  And wander and weave this mind did do last night.

My job is in many ways perfect for me but also a burden.  I like that I am mostly by myself because I can hide all my quirks or as some may call the side effects of being human.  Except for when I was a small kid, I have always been unnaturally embarrassed by farting and worse still, pooing in public.  I mean, I can do it. I'm not like some people who absolutely refuse and will go home to do it but it causes me much chagrin.  Besides that, when I am around other people, I feel like I have to be constantly making conversation.  Trying to be funny and charming is incredibly draining.  Silence, unless around your spouse, makes me nervous.  I really have to know a person well before I can feel comfortable just being quiet around them.  Probably because I fill the silence with their unspoken judgements of me.  It is truly a neurotic thing to believe that when people are given the opportunity, they will think nothing but negative and hostile things about you.  So being alone allows me to relax in these respects but my job is also a burden.  The physical aspects are obvious.  Standing on your feet for 8 hours a day takes a toll on your body, especially your legs and it you're not moving, nothing is getting done.  I am constantly moving some part of my body.  And though the body is active, the brain is truly loafing, free to wander and explore every idea, every possible scenario, usually to its not so logical conclusion.

This is where I was last night.  Listening to my familiar music.  Floating in and out of songs.  Sometimes my thoughts were pure fantasy and this made me happy, joyful, hopeful about life.  As the night went along, my body started saying "Don't forget about me, I'm tired, I'm hungry".  And the emotional side of me started talking, "I'm getting a little lonely for some company, let's find somebody to talk to".  So I was tired and lonely, a break will fix this problem.  Taking my computer and pushing the appropriate buttons, I hook up to the virtual world, trolling around for some people.  I like these people, this will be good.   But I guess my people are busy, oh well, maybe next break. Back to work more of the same.  I'm getting tired of this music.  How many times can I listen to the same Cat Stevens album and get the calming feeling I'm looking for?  The music is actually making me anxious now.  The previous soothing tones are now just irritating.  This is where the brain kicks into high gear.  It tells me I'm just fooling myself.  The flights of fancy I found so pleasant before are all now clearly ridiculous.  These things will never happen and who do I think I am fooling anyway?  For that matter, what are you even bother going through the motions of all these activities for anyway.  Swimming, you'll never keep up with that.  Crafts, they're just silly things that will never last the test of time.  Work, if I don't do it, some other dumb shit will take their pittance and do it.  In other words, it's all been done before and what I really want, I will never get.  What's the point?  And maybe I should just quit trying all together.

This is nothing I've never thought before, that's the trouble.  It's this spiral of thought and it swirls and twirls until it goes to it's natural conclusion.  And for a moment, there is a calm.  A decision is made and all the what ifs have been eliminated.  But the finality is not what I want either.  It is faulty logic but it does have a sick truth to it.  I appreciate the process in the most academic way but it does not serve me well.  Ultimately the question becomes what is our purpose in this life and just what can we expect from it.  What can we change and what is it worth it to us to try?  Wanting is easy.  Getting can be harder.  Being content is harder still.