I'm listening to a beautiful song right now-- "Scratch" by Kendall Payne. I just read through some of the entries I made right before and after my surgery, and I saw a comment that Grandma Dorie had left...naturally, I started crying, and now I'm Introspective Mode. So, the lyrics are particularly poignant.
As I wrote a week or so ago, I turned down an offer for a big-kid job, because I don't think I'm ready for it. I am trying to find a low-pressure job for the time being to earn some money and get started again, so I've sat through a few interviews. I had one earlier today and the interviewer asked me why I had been out of work for so long. I tried to keep it light, but it's never easy to get those words out. I feel like I had built a haphazard but functional life for myself, and then had it shot to shit. It's difficult to spin that into a reason for someone to hire me. Anyway, the refrain to "Scratch" is:
I'd like to know
if you'd be open
to starting over
from scratch.
I'd like to know
if you'd be open
to giving me
a second chance.
See, relevant! I get the impression that not everyone sees my situation the way I do. I get the impression that some are expecting me to just pick myself up, dust myself off, and get back on the horse. To them [we'll call them "the haters" as a homage to this past week's episode of Glee], I must lay the following retort. Read carefully.
I DON'T HAVE A FUCKING HORSE. The one I had before was problematic and had very little hope for any future success. I am in heated pursuit of a new horse. (I hope it'll be like Shadowfax from Lord of the Rings-- "Shadowfax, show me the meaning of haste!", or maybe a Budweiser Clydesdale.) And I'm doing my damnedest to dust myself off. Don't doubt for a second that I'll be back in action in short order, and I'll be stronger than ever. In the meantime, back the f' off.
Also, as Carol the Magic Therapist gently reminds me, it hasn't been that long since everything fell apart. Some days it feels like yesterday, some day it feels like a lifetime ago.
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