Structure

I am missing structure in my life.

At work, my job was eliminated…for a few weeks. About 2 weeks before I was due to end up in Limbo, they re-created my "job", or "position". Probably because I'm in the union and they couldn't find any way to actually get rid of me.

The Dean has since admitted publicly it was a mistake to close our service: nevertheless, the clock will not be turned back.

Onward we go, to what we don't know.
What do we do? Darned if I know - do you?

Only it's not so funny. See, I need a lot of structure in my life to feel good. And right now, there isn't any. Oh, occasionally I have a friend over for dinner. That provides me structure for one night. I have to think about what I'll be cooking. I have to purchase items, and usually I have to clean up. Then there's the eating dinner and enjoying the company.

Then the company goes home, and I can clean up.

But after that, I'm lost. What do I do next?

And now the same thing is happening at work.

I do not, most emphatically not, enjoy twiddling my thumbs. There's a horrendous mess here at work that needs to be categorized, separated, organized - and those three words do not describe much about me.

"Slow to organize" would be putting it mildly. Easily overwhelmed.

"Catastrophically disorganized" is more to the point.

So, my life is a bit like that of - I hope I can spell this correctly - Sisyphus. I keep rollin' that damned ball, and it keeps rollin' back down the hill, running me over in the process. Next day, I peel myself off the ground and start over.

But it sure doesn't feel like anything I do matters. At all.

Looking for Meaning

A.K.A., trying to make sense of it all.

Yesterday, Hubby, Stepdaughter, & friend V came for brunch. I scrambled around (ouch!) getting all this vegetarian food prepared, plus some veal sausages for Hub & me...

We ate. We talked. We watched funny things on the internet. And they all helped me take apart a quilt I have to do over. A (fairly) good time was had by all. Nothing of any real consequence was discussed, nothing about feelings, nothing serious. Just a visit.

One that left me, predictably, profoundly sad.

I miss them - Hubby, Stepdaughter, friend, yes, even silly stepson. I love them, you see. We had some good times, in the past 16 years. And though I can't deal with the mess and the chaos, and the lack of caring about the mess and chaos - it was good to see Stepdaughter, to just have her around for a few hours. It felt good.

Mind you, they did bring a little bit of chaos over with them! Apparently Stepson is attempting to move into a larger room in the basement. He's (shudder) motivated to empty his small room and move stuff from storage in the large room neatly into the small room, and that meant that my stuff that was being stored needed to go…So, here it is. On the floor, right in the way, in my apartment. I've put one load of laundry in and am trying to decide what to do with the sawed-off jeans. I'd like to make a quick quilt for Haitian refugees. I say "like to" because from experience I know they'll all be grandparents before I could finish it…

There was one funny moment, when Stepdaughter looked at the washing machine and exclaimed "How can you stand it?! It's got a plastic cover, for godssake!" I couldn't understand what the problem was, till I remembered how laundry is "done" back at the House. I brought her into my bedroom and showed her my laundry basket. It's about the size of a kitchen garbage can.

"See this?" I said. "When it's full, I do the laundry."

Realization filled her face. "Oh!" she exclaimed. "You do the laundry OFTEN! Lots of small loads!"

We hugged. It was a moment to cherish.

A different kind of success

Aah, Bucky, you say it so well.

That's what I'm feeling - a different kind of successful. Having cleaned for two days and cooked and done laundry, i go to bed frustrated because the place is a wreck, and I look, and feel, worse than the place.

I'm "differently-successful."

When I have "dark nights of the soul" like tonight, I rack my brain to try and figure out - WHY? Why do I feel so unloveable? I have friends who come visit me, a job I'm moderately good at. I'm even working on being on time for work - heck, at 52, I have to do something to improve myself!

I have a wonderful pet pussy-cat who is doing her determined best not to let the cold weather get her down.

I even understand a good deal of what goes on around me. I try to keep in touch, try to do what I can...

But I still feel like a failure. Lost my second marriage, lost the family home. And frequently, I lose control.

I knew there would be nights like this, when I left, nearly a year ago. I guess I just thought I'd get them over with, mostly, within a year.

Nope. Being alone still hurts. Still sucks.

Then in desperation, I turn to the comics, seeking something to help me stop blubbering so I can get some sleep so I can get up when the alarm goes off so I can practise getting up on time so I can make it to work on time this week - and there he was, good old Bucky!

I'm not a failure. I'm "differently-successful."