...if going down to visit Juan and his new "family" was such a hot idea. Not because of anything they did, of course, but because the contrast between them and my situation is so appallingly vivid.
No. I wouldn't have missed it for the world. Even if it was my only shot at spending time in the kind of environment -- and with the kind of people -- I find in my (few) good dreams, it was worth it.
Besides, there were moments just too cool to miss. Think about the sheer weirdness of watching someone having his blood tested while dogs bark -- and, occasionally, cats mew -- in the background. Go watch the video on his site.
Here are my good and much-appreciated hosts, Juan, K., and M. in front of their delightful cottage*...
People, dogs and cats thrive there. What more need be said?
For me, the descent continues. I had to deal with a new doctor today and found it a frustrating and somewhat humiliating chore. The only bright spot was that medication is controlling my sole physical issue (at least as far as the doctor was concerned) well. The rest was a real bust. In fact, I stopped talking to him after a few minutes. He wasn't listening.
The romance between me and my potential employer seems to have cooled. I was supposed to hear from my contact this week, and did not. Nor did he respond to a "just keeping in touch" email. Oh, well.
I get the advice everyone else does from various people. Right now, the general opinion seems to be that I shouldn't just cave in and wait for the next boulders to fall on me, but should -- as Richard Nixon used to say -- "fight 'em, fight 'em, fight 'em."
To which in earlier times I would heartily assent. I have neither the energy nor any ideas how to do that now. Too many options and possibilities have been beyond my reach for too long. And the few potential turns in the road need to be approached at a pace slower than is good for me. It's like sneaking up on soap bubbles: I have to be deliberate and delicate, while the wolf-pack, not forced to be deliberate at all, gathers to strike.
There are two "mes" right now. One sees unhappy people I want to console and support, be happy for a few people who are enjoying well-deserved happiness and have, if possible, more work than I can handle; the other just wants to curl up in a ball, have someone else hold my hand and make me believe everything will work out.
The second "me" can't delude himself that way any longer.
* I suppose it's too large to be called a "cottage," but it has a warm, comfortable aura that brought the word to mind, so I'm stickin' to it.
22 hours ago
7 comments:
Glad you got to hang out with friends. Their "cottage" looks very cool!
Gill
What a great picture. Juan looks so happy. I love the "cottage". :)
They do look like warm and wonderful people.
Sorry about the bad stuff. The "cottage" may be a dream. Some things defy explanation. What an education.
The cottage does have a happy look to it. You deserve a little cottage of your own, especially considering how much happiness you bring/have brought to others. Hope you get yours soon, friend. Keep holdin' on. :)
S
That house brings back fond memories of housesitting in that neighborhood in 2000.
Juan looks a lot healthier than before. That's encouraging.
How disappointing that the potential employer is silent! I was soooo hoping that would work out 4 U. {Sniff.}
And *OF COURSE* you don't have the oomph to keep fighting: even professional soldiers get times out for R & R. You need to be able to lick your wounds.
Wishing you better days ahead, Scribbs!
PS: "He wasn't listening." That could be the epitaph for 99% of today's MD's. I hear it from all kinds of friends, and I've experienced it too often myself. (I wish I could send my GP up 2 U: he's an exception.)
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