Tuesday, December 29, 2009
What should I do now? it isn't dark enough...
Yesterday was a bad day, I was coming down from Christmas high and the heaviest fattest I have been for a long time and looking for a place to crash and break into pieces. Most of my wallowing in the self pity slop was about the job, I really looked at not doing this anymore - I had to fill out my applications for future employment with the Office of the Secretary of State, the same office that has decided they don't need me anymore. Of course, it isn't that they don't need me, it is that they just don't have any money to pay me what they think I am worth - or they have exactly how much to pay me that I am worth (not one red cent!).
So today after a good nights sleep with dreams of military bad boy on the block reminding me of when I was almost heroic but certainly a trouble no one wanted to meet in a dark alley or steaming jungle or on desert sands (doesn't that make my heart glad? yes it does), so today - I am over it. One day I will have to study those seven steps in whatever and find where I should be, that I am missing. So what do I call my blog once I am not Just the Library Keeper anymore? My name is Earl was already taken by a bad comedy about Redneck stereo-types, and it had such potential.
Filling out that form starting from current job and going back is a chore, and it allows me to remember when and where I moved on and the whys - why did you leave - better job at higher wages wasn't always the reason. And how many months did you work there - I liked the time in the Army (the reason for the military dreams) over three hundred and some very odd months worth. I did some of my best research under duress yesterday when I was rudely interrupted by pushy patrons that wanted my attentions, I did save some miss-addressed materials from going where no books were needed nor expected, I did tote that barge and lift that bale - there weren't a lot of institutional libraries open yesterday, other folks know how to take time off for family and festivities.
Still there were indications I am not as good as I should and wanna be... I don't like being a wanna-bee... I should be already. An inquiry to the Revolutionary War Veterans Association about my status, as Shoot Boss, got me an answer that no Senior or Master Instructor had mentioned that I was worthy. I had been prodded to check, and the answer was what I was thinking all along, when they think I am they will tell me so. This morning I was thinking that I wouldn't feel like a real Shoot Boss until I put the whole package together - get a range, set up a date, gather a crew and people that want to pay and attend with attention. That day I would be a real Shoot Boss, not just the only instructor not fast enough to say "I am too busy or not ready to be in charge" which is kind of how I got to be in charge, although I keep telling myself it was to pull some of the burden off of Wheeler44, who had too much on his plate. That was the second indication of poor performance in one day.
The third was really all mine, and made me think I was already sixty-too old to take care of myself. I got on the ferry for the ride back home and found no Caravan keys in my pockets, no keys in my backpack, no keys to open and start my return trip to my home, the safe haven. Sigh, so did I leave them in the ignition while distracted by the new GPS navigator my wife gave me? Did they fall out of my pocket on the ferry, in the parking lot, in the leaves on the trail down to the dock, were they still on a desk at work in the darkened library? Didn't matter, I had to call my wife and ask her to drive out to the parking lot with my extra set of keys. Her response was what would I do if she wasn't there? Well, I could walk home, I could go back and sleep on the floor in the library, and I could just wait until a long legged red head showed up with my winning Lotto ticket and the car of my dreams. No I didn't mention that last - I wasn't completely gone out of my head. I did say thank you as she drove up and gave me the key. When I opened the door the keys I was missing were on the driver's seat, either fell out of the pocket while getting out of the car or never got into it. Nothing lost just out of place, like my whole day as me, a bit out of place.
It wasn't all bad, I did notice we still had daylight at four-thirty sunsetting, that is an indicator of a returning to global warming and motorcycling in happiness. And although I did pull my wife out of her groove to rescue me (she is so smart about not beating me up with it) she had a wonderful soup, dinner and salad waiting for my attention, homemade soup. That and a nice warm bed to dream in and I could be a better person today and will proceed like I am. Y'all have a good one, a day, a parachute jump an opportunity to trash the bad guys where ever you are; y'all have a good one.