Wondering about my Wanderings

Reaching up

I keep getting my blogs cast into oblivion. I am not sure where they go. I missed a day and can only think of the image of multicolored hand reaching up and wondering it there is anyone.

It has been one of those anxiety filled days that I hope I can put behind me. I learning that I am more vulnerable than I have ever known myself to be. I am fifty nine years old and there ought to be a modicum of toughness. I am not feeling that at all. I went to work in fear. My stomach was nauseous, terrified is not an over exaggeration. The only thing that pulls me through is that I have a crisis center to talk to and you need to realize I feel like a fool in this whole process. There is a new manager and he is a young kid. He is an arrogant kind of guy. Before he was a supervisor he was a mobile driver just like I am now. He let it be known that he is the one person that knows the job of mobile and everyone needs to fall in line.

I happen to be a mobile and he is throwing out all manner of criticism including a write up (I have not received one in eight years of being a security guard.) He asks me questions that I do not have an answer to and has a big grin on his face like a cat who just ate a canary. "How could you not know that?" He then tries to get names of supervisors who did not teach the great truth he has to offer.

I feel like a fool. He has nothing to learn from me. It is as if God sent this guy to make my day, but it is not happening any time soon. I reach up and wonder if anyone knows I am there. I am very sure that I am not alone in my despair. The image of the multicolored hand speaks of many others who want help. Is there anyone out there that is willing to take that hand.