There's that whole idea that we have to spend our birthdays every year in a perpetual state of contemplation; judging the past year for our accomplishments, mistakes, and the justification that we have survived another year.
For me this birthday is especially significant especially considering I was in surgery 8 years ago, went through my last one 7 years ago, and somehow my heart keeps beating on.(see bad luck every 7 years diagnosis, now expired).
Granted the last couple weeks have been crazy in my life; not for an addiction to drama but a refusal to stand in stagnation. I will most likely be quitting the gym within the next few weeks. My vacation is November 2-9th and I will hopefully not be returning after that. I have a few friends here; people who will watch my back when everyone else is stabbing it. From a sales standpoint I will never be good enough to sell anything unless I believe in it, and more importantly believe in the company. The gym, as I have stated before, runs pretty much like most businesses, except that there is an obvious disregard for both the employees and the members (see no air conditioning for two ...
Sometimes you walk away from a situation with less energy, and more drain slipping down. For me today, the inspiration to fully take advantage of a day off is almost a joke; I got the speech yesterday about my inability to really get excited and remain focused on my job. While selling gym memberships is so very exciting, it really isn't too much of a kick in the pants to really catapult or inspire one to push oneself that much harder.
I did try to explain it away to being tired, needing a vacation or bla bla bla, but it doesn't really matter anyway. When the capacity for understanding you is limited to just making sure that you are a profitable member of the team, it just makes it all very dry.
Last night I spent a good deal of time not dealing with anything. Today will be a bit harder as a result.
Tonight there's some thing at some bar not too far from 10th and 3rd..something where the writing is the focus and the effort to read in public might be appreciated. Most of the time I keep my shit to myself; my writing anyhow. I have pages and pages of ...
So my weekend was full of drama and too much emotion to stomach so well, but that's ok.
My birth mother and her mother were in town for the first time together. Her mother spent a good deal of time shedding the guilt she has carried in tears because she made Barbara give me up.
It's funny when you do the math: I have known my blood for a little over 9 days total throughout my entire existence. It's funny when you're adopted and you finally get to see some familiarity in faces and mannerisms. I have come to understand that nature and nurture are almost equal in the ways that they come together to make a person. I am almost nothing like my parents that I know, but to see these women in front of me and watch how they move and understand the simple shit..well, it all makes sense. Thankfully, my mother at 44 is really really beautiful, and bears a striking resemblence to what I may look like one of these days.
On another note, my job is suckass and shitty. I have no time to do anything I want to do..and it's sucking the life out ...
