Keep Breathing

"The important thing", Tom Hanks says in "Castaway", "is to keep breathing...you never know what will wash ashore...".

I have summoned that thought over and over the past few months. It's a nice buffer against all the scary, lonely ominous stuff that has happened (and keeps happening) and it's a source of hope that if I hang in there, something good might come ashore for me too.

I'm in my new house, thirteen miles from the home I lived in for nearly 42 years, my whole life. Since I moved in, I have learned that the neighbors think that part of the porch that borders their property is actually theirs, that the basement takes on water during heavy rains (prompting fears of mold infestation), and that several of the outlets in the house just don't work. The other day I turned on the bathroom light and one of the bulbs shattered. Now there are no working outlets in the bedroom, and the bathroom light is not working either. I guess it's time for the electrician to pay a visit. Sigh.

Worst of all, the cat I adopted from my humane society got very ill, or was somehow injured, and I had to euthanize him less than seven weeks after I adopted him. He was a great cat, and I honestly feel he was the nicest, easist to manage and most appreciative kitty I have ever owned. He had a beautiful long yellow hair coat, and had a very distinctive plaintive meow. He faced his illness with a lot of strength and dignity. I guess I'll never know definitively what was wrong with him, as I did not have him autopsied. It just breaks my heart that he was here such a short time. I really think he loved it here and would have been happy for a the rest of his life. I guess I had no idea how short that was going to be.

At work, things continue to degenerate. I don't really mind the job I'm doing, though at some point the physical component of it is going to begin to weigh upon me. And it's obviously not a dream fulfiller; it's repetitive line work, boring and tedious. But it is a challenge that would at least be tolerable if not for the cadre of screeching harpies I have to work with. They rate at varying levels of insufferability, and no, I'm not being snobby. Practically everyone else in the plant balks at working on this line from Hell, and it's largely because of the personell involved. We have been working ten hours for weeks, plus Saturdays and some Sundays. God knows how long this is going to last. I am making good money, granted, but I don't ever really get to enjoy it. I just have time to go home and get the bare minimums done there before it's back to work again.

I think at times about switching shifts. But the work is the same, and there are harpies everywhere. I don't think third shift is for me, and though I like second, there are personell issues there as well and it tends to make you like a vampire. You can kiss any hope of a social life goodbye.

Now I have to have two cavities filled on Thursday. At some point I think my teeth will be totally replaced by cavities; hmm, I wonder if a cavity can get a cavity?

In two weeks I am supposed to start another class. I hope the overtime is finished or at least subsided by then, but I am dubious. I don't know how I will be able to do well with such a heavy work schedule. But I guess I will have to find out.

Bottom line? Life kind of sucks right now. I'm down here all alone and it seems like all I'm doing it covering up holes, never getting anywhere. As soon as one problem is taken care of, another (or several) takes its place. It seems so futile. I guess its the effort that counts, yada yada yada, but honestly, the effort is getting old. I miss my old life, imperfect and probably dysfunctional as it was.

I have food and shelter and money and work and a car and some friends, and reasonable health. I guess things could be a lot worse. And I don't generally care to write this sort of diary type entry, because it always seems very presumptious to think that others are really interested in the minutae of my life. Actually, I'm not so much writing it for others as for myself. Hopefully someday I'll be able to look back at this entry and say "See, you survived that period..." and it will be a source of strength and accomplishment for me.

I hope so anyway.