Well, that was quick...

I showed up at my new job after a little training, and found that I had no office, no phone, no computer, and no place to sit. Huh? Couldn't they have stuffed a desk in the corner of one of the meeting rooms or something?

It's a growing company and they do NOT have any of their processes down yet. Look, I'll be 45 friggin' years old in January. I know I'm not a seasoned social worker as of yet, but maybe a chair? Maybe a desk that could be shared that is not piled high with papers and charts? I was so disappointed. Constant interruptions in clinical work would have been the norm. I have never quit a job without staying a while, but at this age, I know the score and I was going to be taking Xanax by the end of the week. The gals there were sweet, but it was really going to be miserable for me as a professional.

I've always worked in very mature and professional offices and this was like being in someone's house with people yelling back and forth from the kitchen to the living room. Yes, I know I am spoiled, but I'm too old to be going that far backward. Perhaps my first clue was when I threw up in the middle of the night after my first day. I DO NOT throw up and have NEVER in my life vomited from being emotionally overwrought.

Apparently when I got laid off I had the only good social work job in the city. Maybe I'll just go back to marketing, be bored, and draw an easy paycheck.

stickin' it out...

Being laid off - sucks. Being laid off with endless days of rain - sucks even more. The dogs are couped up. I am couped up. We all need some sunshine and time to play in the yard.

It's hard to stay motivated when there are no new opportunities on the horizon. Mental health jobs are being cut left and right and being a social worker just short of being eligible for licensure really hurts because there are plenty of licensed people who've been laid off. It's an employer's market when it comes to getting good employees. A lot of people; not so many jobs.

You would think this would be a welcome vacation after 21 years of working, but it's more a battle against worry and uncertainty. I am to keep recreating myself, readjusting the plan, revitalizing...

The goal for this week is to clean up and reorganize my studio. It's truly a disaster.

All of my froggies died...

Well, it's a start...

I suppose this awful blue thing is a start on rebuilding hatamaran, but it's not quite the same...I suppose it will evolve over time.

In other news, as I was shutting down my computer last night, I noticed police lights flashing outside. An old car was pulled over in the street directly in front of our house and the cops were searching the car for drugs, while they stomped through the edge of our mailbox garden.

Nice. Perfect end to the day. At least no guns were involved.

I think, therefore...oh wait, I didn't think...

Sometimes I do things that are SO stupid that it defies all laws of gravity, interplanetary goo-related molecule-type space dust-stuff and...well...I just totally f*cked up and lost my entire template.

The whole thing. No cached page.

Lesson learned was don't watch late-night basketball, eat an orange, and fend off dogs and cats while doing shit on your computer that is, at least on a hobby-level, quite important.

So here we are in the wee-hours and I at least dredged up some old hideous header that will do until the weekend, when I can *gulp* begin to rebuild this stooooopid thing.

Oh, what I would give for a time machine right now.

Alas, the world does not revolve around the blog.

Maybe it's some sort of lesson.

cilantro plus frost equals algae...

It's 32 degrees as I sit here in my car and I realize my cilantro, which I knew better than to plant this early, will have the consistency of algae blobs when I get home this evening.

Mr. Peepers died...

I am totally bummed out about losing my little frog, Mr. Peepers. I tried everything I knew how to get him healthy again, but alas, he lept into froggy heaven whilst I was away last night.

what, oh what, has happened to my mind?

The only explanation to all this (what you ask?) is that I've lost it.

Blogging.

Suddenly.

Excessively.

Without cause.

And I ain't no rebel.

For some reason, after starting to feel blue around the anniversary of my father's accident, I started making MORE blogs. Because blogs heal wounds...it is the penicillin to my brain cramp. Bring forth the shit, and lots of it, and publish it onto the web...so shall it be, a great gathering of shit, so that you will believe when thou smellest it.

Stinky.

But fun.

Now I have a blog about my FROGS, and my DOGS, my CAUSES, my neglected ART, and my frickin' CAR. I'm letting the cats carry on as usual at Hatamaran for some reason.

I have a disease. DIS-ease. I am not at ease, therefore I must spout like a broken sewer line.

And somehow getting all that shit out makes me feel a little bit better.

Just hold your nose.

Pooey...

That seems to be my "word of the week." Last week was downright crappy. It was the third anniversary of daddy's accident and it wreaked havoc on my heart and soul all week. It was a week of "trudging through" and I just feel like my mojo has been mo-fo'd.

For the last two weeks nearly every minute I am asleep I am having a nightmare, so I seem to keep putting sleeping off tonight. Unless I've only had a couple of hours or so of sleep, I can do fine the next day.

The last couple of weeks have been prompting me to pull the covers up over my head though. I really dislike the state I'm in, especially with my husband's birthday coming up. It will be a nice one, but I can't put my heart in much of anything right now...maybe it will be better tomorrow...