Tuesday, August 30, 2011

All of the Small Things

Last May was a rather insane month for me. It involved a new addition to the family (a small fluffy one, not a human larva), the loss of my job, and my first award for painting that actually came with a medal. Had losing my job not been so awful, it would have been the best month I'd had in a long time.

But that last bit is what I really want to talk about. ( I will discuss the puppy later, she requires a bit of time to talk about) What is it about losing one's job that is so devastating? When I lost mine it was like the entire world dumped upside down and broke into a shower of tiny glittering pieces. The initial shock just left me sitting among the ruins of a future that would never be, and I had no idea why I wasn't able to simply pick up and move on.

I still haven't completely moved on due to the fact that I haven't found a job and other extenuating circumstances continue to have the details of the loss of my job haunt me constantly. It is just like having food poisoning. Whenever I think of starting a new job I get sick to my stomach even though I know it is what I need in order to stay afloat.

Lucky for us all there is a cure. It has to be drained out, in drips and gushes, until it is no longer in one's system. The trick is finding an outlet fast enough to stop it from spreading to other parts of your life and even future performance.

And so that is what I am doing. In drips and gushes, I am removing this poison one letter at a time.

Monday, August 29, 2011

What are you doing?

I ran into one of my old professors today and like many people who have not seen each other in a while we asked one another what we were up to.

I asked him about what he was teaching, and he cut that off and asked me point blank:
"Forget about that though. What are you doing?"

It was right about then that two thoughts came into my head. One was a screaming shallow noise machine designed to mask its quiet and powerful partner. This first thought gave all of the normal excuses:
"Looking for work."
"Working on my writing/painting/underwater basket weaving."
"Taking care of the puppy."

All of them true but useless and unspecific.
The other thought that was hiding right behind them was far more terrifying. It whispered its quiet poison into my mind:


It was then that Nietzsche's abyss stared back into me for it was also the moment that I realized I had been staring into it ever since I had lost my job. Or, more ominously, longer still.

Like all good questions it opened up into many more, but only two really mattered in this transcendental 'oh shit' moment: "Why?" and "What are you going to do about it?"

At this current time I don't know the answer to either one.

Conveniently by the time I got home I had come down with one of those psyche shattering migraines I am prone to and as such had a great excuse for lying curled in the fetal position in my bed. I spent the rest of my day running on automatic as my mind raced through oblivion and arrived at nowhere.

It was definitely one of those damn days.