-Back to Work Back Post-
I went back to work on Monday and haven’t had time to write. As soon as I strike a balance between reality and the virtual world, I’ll start sloughing the mind flakes.Until then …
How blogging saved my mind but not my 401K.
REPLACING THE DECK CHAIRS.
After being jobless for almost a year, tomorrow I will once again be jobfull. A culture shock waiting to happen due to my previous limited conversational choices, which included the characters in my head and virtual blogging friends. I know you’re all real!
Spare us the sentimental crap and continue detoxing your brain.
I eventually found my self-esteem on an obscure shelf in the family room in my house where I also found my car keys. Now I can drive again with confidence. Parking is another story, as mentioned in an earlier post called Women better at parallel parking baking dishes in ovens than cars on streets. I know. Shameless self-promotion, but it is relevant. Sort of.
For months, I searched the hallowed halls of my head and house for my shiny ego that had ejected from my brain. It took five months to notice it radiating from the shelf, slightly tilted right against the Titanic DVD. No wonder I kept rearranging the deck chairs, while the birds evacuating the feeder left good luck droppings on my head. Thank you, birds. Not! Lice ridden rats with wings. Oh, that’s right. Those are pigeons. These birds are just lice ridden and shit a lot.
As I lifted my ego from the shelf, it looked up at me and smiled. Maybe the Lysol fumes fogged my head. We embraced, my ego and me, and then I promptly slipped it back into my brain. It was easy, like replacing a lithium battery. I could breathe again, as soon as I passed through the Lysol cloud that hung above the kitchen compactor. Compactors transform trash into manageable messes. Don’t you know?
The darkness finally went away. Oh, that was night. I could get on with my life, take showers, and send out resumes in confidence, knowing that Job seekers now outnumber openings six to one.
Hearing those numbers was equivalent to having a lobotomy.
Six months after finding my footing – it was icy outside and the wood floors slippery inside – I found a job, which brings us back to Doe, not Doh!
It brings us back to the beginning of this abomination. I’ve got to wrap this up before y’all go away. They say that people nowadays have a really short attention . . . Sorry. I got distracted by my own bullshit.
Tomorrow, I begin a new day with the blare of my alarm clock set to heart attack mode and then segue into lunch that will now last an hour instead of an afternoon. And Oh? Did I mention that I will be paid with real money and not Entrecard credits?
Time will now be a valuable commodity. When you have too much time, its worth becomes devalued. However, the blog does not stop here. I intend to keep writing the wrongs and posting regularly, as long as I keep eating my blogger bran and don’t fall asleep in my Macaroni and Cheese still left over from the case that sits shuddering on the shelf in the dark in the bowels of my evil kitchen. I wrote about scary food, too. You probably remember Cook’s Crypt. How could you not? I keep dredging that one up from the cellar.
From the bottom of the likely clogged arteries of my heart, I thank you all for reading my maniacal ramblings. This is not good-bye. This is good God. How am I going to get up at 6 a.m.?