Thursday, August 22, 2013

Deep Thoughts

I'm sitting here in my office chair at folding table in what should be my dining room if I owned a table and suite of chairs that were purpose built for the act of dining.

In what should have been the living room Joe has built himself a fortress of maths and algorithms and folding banquet tables from Target. He has gone to the library to take out three books that he will read during his two week break before the start of his fall semester.

I've got a shot of bourbon chilling with three ice cubes in a Old Fashioned glass I got from the Dollar Tree shortly after we moved in. I'm rationing the remainder of this bottle of Wild Turkey 101 because you can't get it in Canada at all, and I'm not sure my next trip to the US of longer than 48 hours is going to have the budget to replace it.

But I'm hopeful.

Except for the little desk lamp that Joe left on before he left, it's mostly dark. I am just sipping my bourbon and trying to figure out where I stand on a whole bunch of issues that have just come to light.

There's a big long story to this, wherein my boss is both the victim and the accused. I understand why it happens, but I don't think that being abused is an excuse for becoming an abuser. I'm not comfortable in my own skin anymore, mostly because I've decided what I want to do, what I should do that's right for me, and I'm being held back, waiting for more information and permission. And money.

It's always about the money.

I had a big long post here about what's going on, but it really doesn't matter in the specific. In the general, I'm really unhappy with just about everything. Everytime I have a glimmer of hope that things are going to be better, it gets trampled, postponed, cancelled, or otherwise made "not a priority" by someone in power.

I'm tired. The bourbon worked.


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