Friday, June 24, 2011

My God, Whatever, Et Cetera...

I'm tired and depressed, which isn't the best combination for a blog post, but my mother always told me to get back on the horse and ride (she never once told me that), so giddy up, my people.

That giddy up was, of course, in honor of Al. Who is golfing or working a golfing event today. The witch.

See what I mean?

Anyway. What a week it has been—so long, exhaustingly long. I feel like one whole week, Monday through Friday, was self-contained in yesterday's Thursday. It was never ending. At 5 o'clock, I walked out into the sunshine to the parking lot and could not remember where I had parked my car, it felt like ages had passed.

To quote the wellspring of truth and wisdom that is "Grey's Anatomy:"

"Change. We don't like it, we fear it. But, we can't stop it from coming. We either adapt to change or we get left behind. It hurts to grow, anyone who tell you different is lying. The more things change the more they stay the same. Sometimes change is good. Sometimes change is everything."

Change has come to these here parts. Another empty office down the hallway. I'm happy for the people who get to go, but yesterday wasn't just a departure, it was heavier than that. The atmosphere here shifted from relaxed, loose to sharp and chaotic in an instant. One day it will shift back. The hours will speed by more quickly, the stacks of paperwork will dwindle, the tasks will be reassigned, the office filled—or turned into a storage closet. And we will make the change, picking up our steps in places and lingering longer in others. That's what we do, what I was raised to do, adapt. Figure it out.

Where does that leave me? a selfish little thing asks. When will it be my turn? I hold back the jealousy and try to keep my head up.

Words from an old friend pierce my impenetrable facade, and I crumble, as I often do, in the car driving home. And among tears there are those same selfish questions, and an ache that spreads with each passing day. A heavy load to quietly bear, day in and day out—each ounce of good news and understanding, every forced smile, and new task making it heavier...each look from my boss that says (as her mouth does) "I'm sorry, you just can't go, not now, not yet."

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