I'll follow the Sun

It is morning. It is bleak. And wet with rain and snow. Doesn't help my outlook for the day very much, but so far I'm in better spirits than I was yesterday at this time. Sometimes when I come in to work, as was the case yesterday, a feeling of creeping dread surrounds me. It tells me to leave this situation, but offers no alternatives.

It's no secret I'm unhappy at work. It's been a while since I've had a job where I trust people so little, including the boss, and don't feel particularly well-liked or valued. In paradoxical twist, I often feel the sometimes burning need to flee this place, while at the same time worried that I'm going to be fired. Not quite the whistle while you work environment, to be sure. There are days when things run smoothly and there's a feeling of kinship, but it's fleeting And, even if there were no personnel issues, there would still be the job itself, which is less than fulfilling, to say the least. Yes, I need to move on. All of the signs are there.

A spiritualist will tell you that when you're on your path, things will click---you'll meet the right people at the right time;the money you need to fulfill a goal will fall into your lap; you'll be enveloped by an increasing sense of wellness; etc. And they'll tell you the opposite is true---when you're off the path, as it were, it'll seem like the heavens have opened up and dumped a torrent of shit all over your life. Can't say I disagree with the spiritualist.

For example,there wasn't much going on at work yesterday. Mid-morning a guy came in to pick up a pressure washer. I set him up with one, though I was barely confident on how to use it properly. Luckily, I figured it out, showed him how to operate it, and sent him on his way. He came back a half hour later, which I somehow knew he would, and told me the machine kept stalling out and the pressure wouldn't release from the wand, making it impossible to disconnect.

I tried setting him up with a new one, but that proved to be a frustrating experience. I was the only one, save Kim, working. That meant I was entirely on my own. I somehow managed to assemble another pressure washer (by assemble I mean gather it's respective parts, like the hose, wand, etc.). Of course, while I was doing this, a massive tractor trailer pulls up with a delivery, of which we only get about three a year. I asked him to wait for a few minutes while I helped the guy with the pressure washer, but he wouldn't have it. "This has to come off NOW!", he bellowed. "I've got other stops to make." So the three of us---yes, my pressure washer customer was nice enough to help---pulled a three hundred pound grill off the back of the truck.

Things got even more tangled up, but you get the idea. Why did the customer and the truck have to show up at virtually the same time? And why did it all happen when I was the only one to help out? Why, why, why. I know the fuck why. Doesn't make it any easier, though. No, it does not.

Need to find that path.

A lot is up in the air right now, and not only with the job. I've covered the scope of it in previous posts and will not do any re-examining. Nothing worse than a ton of complaining with no thought towards a solution. Well, there are plenty worse things, I guess, like being bull-whipped in the eyes and testicles, but you know what I mean. Or do you? Hmm...

It's a bleak day and I'm tired, tired in every sense of the word. Nothing for it but to forge ahead. Always ahead---that is life summed up in two words.
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Spira convinced me to attend a Yoga class with her tonight in Cambridge. It's a type of Yoga, the name of which I forget, that is not taxing on the body and thus ideal for beginners and those suffering injuries. I admit, I'm not really thrilled about going right now, but I'm sure I'll be happy I went.
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I've stopped making an effort to be quiet when I get ready for work in the morning because, even when I move like a ninja, Rich wakes up and heads for the bathroom. I've begun to wonder if he looks forward to these morning visits, like a child laying in bed waiting to open presents on Christmas morning. I bet he gets bummed out those rare times he sleeps through my morning ritual. "Oh, man", he must think, "Kevin's already left for work and I wasn't able to bless him with the utterly foul stench of my morning shit. All those energy drinks and tater tots I inhaled last night have gone to waste!"
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Not everything is sour. There are friends and family. There is Before They Are Hanged, Joe Abercrombie's new book. There is the coming of warmer weather. There is a roof over my head. Etc.

And that is enough out of me for one day.