Perpetual Ruminations

Sunday

Wow, what a change. I logged in to write in my journal and seen the "new look" right off. I also seen an e-mail announcing these changes and was a bit surprised by both. Not in an unpleasant way, but in a good way. In fact, it was terrific.

I did not know there were any changes going on, but then I have not had much time to spend in here lately. I withdraw that phrase, it's been longer than lately, it's been months. In fact it's getting on close to a year now. Anyway, back to subject of change, I did not now, because if it was announced around the site, I wasn't here to to receive it.

I like it, and I'm glad the change has come. Not that I disliked the site in any way, I was just unfamiliar with how everything worked. Again, it had to do with not being around to learn. I had started out good and was picking up a lot, but then it happened and the time I had was suddenly limited.

I would commit to more time in here, and in fact, I kind of did when I set some goals for writing, but so far it has been difficult at the least and almost impossible at the high side. Of course, you would not know, I haven't really told that story in total. Instead I have more or less used my journal as a vent to blow off steam and stress.

That's not a bad thing, it needs to blow, but I did not start my journal to create a vent. As the description states, it's a place to set my mind free. So what happened? Perhaps it's time to tell that story, in total. Not in detail, it would become my first novel. Seriously, it would; and there would be plenty of room for more books based on the original. Unfortunately, I don't think it would interest anyone unless they were in the same boat.

Besides, we all have our troubles, it's called life. Even so, I will tell the tale, just to get it out and to have a reference for anyone who ever decides to follow this blog.

It all began long ago, with a desire to write. I had the talent but not the knowledge. In other words, I could spin a good yarn and make it very believable, but I could not write. I had a terrible time in school, and English was my downfall. I was a terrible speller, I never learned the mechanics, and had no interest at all. Why? I really don't know.

Over the years, I did write a bit here, a bit there, but never anything like I longed to write. Someplace it had been lost and burried over with layers of crap and discontentment. I was in a bad marriage, and it was destroying me. Being stubborn, I refused to see the truth and put most of my effort into trying to make it become what I wanted, instead of seeing it for what it was. It was like two forces in constant conflict and opposition and it consumed time, energy, and a large part of who I was.

Then, in yet another attempt to win this endless battle, I made a choice to become more, to return to school and learn a trade. I had once, years before seen this same option and had tried it, and it worked for a while. It wasn't school, it was the military. Like I said, for a while, my life had meaning and purpose, and my relationship became more stable. Only, by the time reenlistment came up, I was again seeing the hopelessness of my situation and new that if I did, it would be the end of the rest. I chose my family and left the service. I convinced myself this was the best choice, but it was the worst.

Back to school, college. Me, who could not even hold a solid "C" average? Right, this would fail, too. I didn't even know what to go to school for. I looked and pondered, but time was against me, so I had to choose and get started or loose the opportunity. I picked a business field and took the plunge. It was a small college, and all I needed was a placement test. I did terrible enough to need remedial classes but I was in.

I took some of the basics, but it was kind of embarrassing to be in grade school level classes. I couldn't do anything about it, so I decided to apply myself and get as much out of them as I could, so I could move on. I worked and studied, and soon found I was doing great. I was also able to now take some college entry level classes. One of these was English Comp. I had some difficulty, since I didn't know the basics of the English Language, and my spelling was going to be my downfall.

Not so, my instructor instead seen something there and had me take some basic level courses in reading and English fundamentals. The reading wasn't because I couldn't read well, but to improve my spelling and mechanics in writing. It worked, and soon I found that desire and talent that had become buried so long ago. I went on to take more Comp classes and to begin writing as a way of expression. I did well in school, too. I graduated in four years with two degrees. I also graduated with honors, and could have done even better, but I got involved with a woman. Even so, I still did terrific and seen the real saga of my life. It was going to be a sad ending if I did not change it.

So, I did. After twenty years I was now single again. Like I pointed out, I got involved with a woman and began to spiral downward again. Yes, I fell right back into the same routine again. Not the same hole, but one just like it, maybe even worse. I almost fell all the way in, but then some of what i had learned in school held and my ability to now express myself in writing also helped me to find myself. I discovered I could write about things in a way that helped me to see them from another angle, one not blinded and hindered by feelings and expectations.

So, I seen the direction I was going and changed it before I fell. I started working a new job and decided to take some time and raise my children and find myself. Soon enough another woman came into that life and this time it was different. I soon was in a serious relationship and soon enough we began a life together. She was supportive and desired to see me succeed, especially in my writing. I still think she seen more than I did.

That began a whole new life for me. I quit my empty job and we moved to a new state and started a new life. She was willing to work and support us so I could try and get into writing and follow my dreams. Unfortunately, the right job did not surface and in need of money, I also took a job. That was fine for a while, but it was very demanding and full of problems. Another job offered better, so I took it. I should have passed it by.

It was fine at first, but I had to learn a new vocation in very limited time. I also found myself working nights, and twelve hour days. It was nice having three days off one week and four the next, and the money and benefits were great. But things changed, the company began cutting back on benefits, demanded more from us workers, and cut the labor force in half. Especially in our department. It was a nightmare. Twelve hours of running, from seven at night to seven the next morning.

Seldom was there any break, we ate on our feet, grabbing a bite here and there between trucks in and trucks out. then we lost a few more people who just couldn't handle it. Short on help, it was even worse, and when they did hire, it would be someone who didn't have any clue, or desire to learn. So, along with all the work, I was also training someone new almost weekly. I was also trying to have a life at home, and keep up the house and vehicles. Children, now grown had returned home, only to work against the rules and policy, as well as to put a drain on finances.

I found myself having difficulty sleeping during the day, and only got a few hours a sleep most of my "nights." I soon began to have health problems, and the stress at work kept growing. After another hospital visit, and signs of an infection, but no clue where or what, I returned home. I worked a few days, then had a couple off. When it was time to go back to work, I just could not force myself to go. I don't remember all of what happened, but I do remember some. I had a major panic attack and felt complete loss of control. I was very depressed, scared, and unable to function. I went back to the hospital, a different one, and spent two weeks recovering from physical exhaustion, anxiety, and depression.

Drugged to the max, I returned home and soon returned to work. I was on days now, but that did not help. Another good worker had left, and the trainee working was doing pretty good. Even so, he could not do much yet, and I was again running myself ragged. it got to the point of being in constant pain from being on my feet so long without breaks, and then the trainee told me he was leaving, I would be on my own again until they hired someone for me to train, on top of all the rest of it. My boss supplied the last straw, when he called from his office, to have me run out of the lab and close the outside door, by his office. He was sitting with his feet up, talking to another manager when I went by to close the door he could not get up and shut. He worked eight hours a day, or less, took time off all the time, and he couldn't even help out. He couldn't even shut a door. I quit.

But, it was too late and my health continued to deteriorate. Rhonda worked, but her job ended and she tried her best to keep us afloat, but it wasn't enough. Then we had vehicles die and no means to replace them. We couldn't make our rent, we couldn't hardly buy food. The same children who had been our burden took off and left us sinking. We had to move, and my brother supplied the house, rent free. Rhonda found another job and we survived.

But, my health wasn't good. I ended up back in to see the doctor, and then even an ambulance ride into the emergency room. some morphine, which I couldn't have on the other medicine I was on took care of the pain and I walked out and rode home. I could have easily died with the two medicines I was on, but it wasn't my time. Instead I began to put on weight, a couple of pounds a week. I was seeing the doctor on a weekly basis, and he had me on a restricted diet, and I took it almost to the point of starvation, but I still put on more weight. My condition worsened, and eventually I had to have a biopsy done. Well, three of them.

My immune system had begun to attack my own body, and I was in terrible shape. The outside symptoms had been the noticeable ones and why i was getting medical attention, but there was an internal side as well. I was about three hundred pounds, unable to even walk without a cane, and constantly sick. I was also beginning to suffer the effects of not eating. I was put on a medication that stopped my immune system, which in turn stopped the attack on my body. Six weeks later, I was weaned off and my immune system started up again. It attacked soon after and we did another six weeks. This was the case an entire fall and winter.

Eventually, it worked, and my immune system began to work properly. Why it happened was a mystery, but it was thought it may have been a food allergy of some kind. I had to watch and list anything that had ill effects on me and eventually I found the culprit. MSG's are poison to me.

I was on the road to recovery, but my weight and past damage to my back had me back off my feet, again. I was still working with the doctor who was monitoring my recovery, and he had me schedule an epidermal in my spine. I went in and had the injection and then a week later began therapy. I went through therapy most of the winter, and continued it on my own over the spring and summer. I was doing better, and life was getting better. I was kind of looking for work, but had not worked now for about five years.

Then, Rhonda had an accident at work and we ended up broke, again. I had been helping a brother recover from some problems related to alcohol and was still not fully back on my feet. She had surgery and we made it through, but she never returned to a job that paid enough to support us.

That's where my story really begins. She was working at Target and we were surviving, but that was all. I was still doing therapy at home and was again attempting to write. We had survived a lot, and now I had time to spend, at home, writing and continuing my education. I was taking free classes, since money was tight, and I was doing a bit of writing, when I found WDC. I joined and got a good start. Rhonda was supportive, and trying to hold us afloat, but her income just wasn't enough. She was talking about a second job, if needed, but then we wouldn't have any time together. I began looking for a part time job to help out, and still have time to write.

It had been over six years since I had worked, now. I was nervous and not sure what direction to go. I did know my back would not let me work labor type jobs anymore, and I had not used my business degree in many years. I looked into some alternative careers, but I had no experience, no reference, and no chance. Then, I found a state program for vocational rehabilitation and signed up. I was eligible, but they didn't do much at all. Then, my worker moved and I was assigned a new counselor. She was young, pretty, and willing. To work with me -- what did you think?

She had me start all over, and we worked with a private employment agency, and I looked here and there, but nothing. I was about to just give it up when I got a call about a security position. I applied and got hired, last May. I liked the work, but the training was not enough. the pay was alright, but no benefits. The main thing I liked was the hours, I worked Monday and Tuesday, 6:00 pm to 10:00 pm, then had Wednesday through Friday off. I worked Saturday 1:00 pm to 9:00 pm and Sunday 2:00 pm to 8:00 pm and then had Monday and Tuesday off, then worked Wednesday though Friday, 6:00 pm to 10:00 pm and then would have the weekend off. This would repeat over and over.

Great, the pay was nice and helped out a lot, the hours would allow me time to write and do other things, and the job was enjoyable. Only, the person who worked my off days was on the same repeating schedule. We were the fill-in people for everyone else if they needed time off or called in sick. I didn't want any more hours, but Missy (not her real name, but fitting) wanted as many as she could get. Fine with me.

But Missy also wanted a lot of time off, so she would work and fill in, but then want days off, which screwed up my days off. I was getting some much needed dental work done, another part of some health problems and would schedule dental work for days off, then find I now had to work. It's always fun to work after an extraction or root canal job. I also could not plan any time off for fun, and after setting up a room and plans for Rhonda and my anniversary, only to have Missy want that weekend off, I had enough.

I explained the situation to my boss, again, and told him I was giving him my two week notice. I could not work if I could not have the ability to make plans for my off days. I did understand the need to fill in, but in the case of Missy, I would have to switch my day off or weekend off for hers, so she got the time off but did not miss any hours. In other words, she took time off and I filled in for her, but never got any extra hours.

Instead of quitting, I was approached with the position of supervisor. I didn't really want it, and Rhonda and I discussed it, but it was meant to be and I was soon in charge of the misfits. It fits them, they work at doing things wrong, fight doing it right, and wrok against me and each other. they have gotten better, but it's still a battle most times.

Missy still tries to get her time off, now out on medical reasons, I still don't have the power to fire at will, and have to try and hold it all together. I also have to fill in hours as needed. So, I find I have little time, still. At least now it is my responsibility to fill in and sacrifice, but it's still difficult. If the others would work with me, and do their jobs right, it would all work nice, most of the time, but that's not happening, not now and who knows when.

So, I'm working long hours, most days, and have little time in here, still. I keep trying, I set goals and work to create time in here, but as soon as I do, something else comes up. It's a constant battle and it's a bit stressful. Like today, I'm at HyVee online to do some writing here. Rhonda worked at 11:00 am so I came here since I don't work until 2:00 pm. I found a spot with a plug in so and sat down with a cup of coffee. the guy sitting by me was friendly enough, but I didn't want to engage in idle chat. I had to be a bit rude and kind of ignore him to write and do my thing.

But, lunch would soon be over and it would get quiet and I would have the area to myself, right. No way, some people came in with kids. I find I really despise kids anymore. They are not fit to be out in public, and should be institutionalized until they are thirty. OK maybe not. I know, it's not the kids, it's the parents, the grandparents and the whole group sitting there that does nothing to keep them quiet or sitting down.

I put in earbuds to drown them out, with some online music streamed, but I have to turn it up to a point of discomfort to block them out. Without the earbuds, the kids are so loud it is painful to the ears, but no one does anything to quiet them. It's too much and my time is up, so I have to go get ready for work. I do have a little time, but I won't be get to enjoy it here, they are moving chairs, screaming, and creating a nuisance. Dogs are put down for such as this, but kids are allowed and unrestrained. Another sign of the times...