tracker

eXTReMe Tracker

Thursday, October 28, 2010

The wheel is turning but the hamster is clearly dead...

He awoke one day, shortly after his birthday, to a sense of clarity. The image he viewed in the mirror was suddenly uncluttered of past illusions.

His self knowledge, which often times availed him very little substance, had been ratcheted up a few notches.

He was able to take stock of who he was and where he was and the thought came to him very clearly.

"You, are fucked." But the difference in this moment was he knew his overt fuckedness could be changed, but would take courage, and sacrifice to unfuck himself.

He saw, with detached horror, the him he would be at sixty if something drastic did not occur.

Drastic moments required drastic action, which was why he remembered kicking the giant rat at Chuckee Cheese squarely in the giblets.

This, he determined, was a giblet kicking moment.

He immediately changed his diet and started the painful process of getting into shape. He even shaved his moustache. No sense in hiding behind it any longer.

And he also set about changing his career. Updated the resume, and sent it out, to jobs that were far different than anything he had ever done.

Soon (he hoped)it would be time to strike out on his own again, new, gently used furniture and an apartment to himself. A vehicle that he could count on, and a job that he could actually have weekends off from.

At least that was the plan.

And plans always made the God of his understanding giggle...he was glad he could amuse.

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

I don't want my hubris crushed, it sounds really painful.

I am ready to retire. Yep, hang it up. I've worked since I was fourteen years old and I am ready to slide into older age with grace.

Is retirement possible? Do I have the 401K, the investment portfolio, the business to sell?

No. I have fuck all. Which admittedly I have brought upon myself.

But my pride tells me I'm getting too old, too weary, to bang it out much longer. My pride doesn't know shit.

So instead of retirement, I'm seeking more, new, or different employment. So that this financial dead zone I'm in will narrow a bit and I can afford my own place, a better vehicle, a place to call my own.

How I would love to go away for a weekend with a special lady, you know, ring her up and casually invite her to the Beach, or Seattle, just because. At this point I have to try and save money for three weeks for dinner and a movie.

Point of fact- I did just that last night. Dinner and a movie with a great woman, whom I suspect was and may be a bit out of my league, yet she went out with me, and looked as though she enjoyed herself. I know I did. But then again I usually do, love the company of women, and as I have recently found the joys of woman closer to my age to be far better than the younger crowd I pursued for so long, I wish to enjoy more of it, and this requires cash. And possibly a vehicle that doesn't creak, whine and rattle, although if I turn the radio up loud enough one doesn't really notice.

So, that's the idea at least, of which I have had many, and none have ever turned out the way I thought they would, or should, but they turned out the way they were supposed to, I guess and lessons have been learned.

And I continue to play the lottery...

Wednesday, October 20, 2010

Hey shorty-it's my birthday...

My birthday. Fifty one trips around the sun. Christ, are we there yet?

I'm tired. Physically and emotionally. I am now closer to sixty than I am to forty and frankly, it's pissing me off. Inside there is a young man looking in the mirror saying "What the fuck? Who are you?"

I have not won the lottery; the girl of my dreams, my childrens undying affection, or a place where everything is rainbows and puppies.

I work as a line cook; a hot, demanding, thankless job- the only Anglo in an entirely Hispanic kitchen and the daily reverse racism is taking it's toll. Like working in the kitchen at the Alamo, the day after the fall.

I have three room mates and negative credit. I drive a 12 year old truck and buy my Polo shirts at Goodwill.

My body is shot, my face reflects a terribly misspent youth and my hair is thinning and greyer by the day. When I have to pee, there is no grace period, I have to go right then. I creak in the morning and moan at night. I am also single, as in not dating, no girlfriend, etc, and my sex drive is in high gear. "Dear Whoever is in charge of irony, Fuck you."

But on Saturday, I will have eighteen months clean and sober. Again, after succumbing to chronic depression (meds not working) and losing everything on a month long binge eighteen months ago.

And I am very, very grateful for that, I realize the jist of this rant seems pretty negative, but they are simply the facts. I am not feeling sorry for myself for I am on the upswing after the fall and am a work in progress.

I have learned a lot about me during this period and change is almost daily. Little by little, I learn to let go, and achieve a small amount of serenity, based on my spiritual condition.

My oldest brother died of a heart attack in a muggy Houston parking lot when he was fifty seven.

Six more years.

Check please...

My new disclaimer...yeah I know.

Okay, the old disclaimer was tired. The ideas were outdated and keeping me stuck in a place I don't want to be anymore...so now for something more refreshing.

I have recently changed my views regarding women. Seems I had some issues with the fairer sex due to past pain and self- centered fear. (Yes...duh applies.)

I'm done with that.

Being in recovery has helped me change my entire life, perceptions and attitudes. I cannot change my history but I can change my today and my future.

I recently realized that the women I know in recovery are some of the strongest, bravest, most gentle and kind teachers I have ever had. You exemplify integrity and spiritual growth, and I hope you know who you are.

Some may know of my past marital and relationship history and been a participant in them as well. It's past and that's where it stays...in the past.

I own my part in those failures but claim no more responsibility in any misery you may be experiencing. I am sorry, but it's time to get off the cross. We need the wood.


Thank you all...