A Day Off

Wow, I overslept. I'm usually up-and-at-'em by six in the morning or so, so it's somewhat odd for me to just now be waking up at nearly one in the afternoon. Back in the day (like there actually was a "day"), I could sleep like nobody's business. Partly because I was so depressed, partly because I was so bored, mostly because I just didn't care. Nowadays I actually have a few responsibilities to take care of during the day, some days more than others. Generally speaking, I don't have to even get up on Sunday or Monday mornings if I don't want to, but it's just easier to maintain my routine if I do.


So what didn't I have to do this morning that I usually do? I didn't need to give my neighbor a ride to work this morning at 6:30. For the last, oh, three months or so, I've been her ride to work since she can't drive anymore. Come up with whatever acceptable explanation you can for it; that's not my story to tell. (If it were, though, you know I would gladly tell it.) I go over to her house around six, watch a little of the morning news while she gets the kids up and dressed, and then we take off to drop the kids at the sitters, where they catch the bus, and then drop her off to work. That's my day, pretty much, until about 2:30 in the afternoon, which is when I go to get her kids off the bus, whether or not she's made it home in time from work. In exchange for this heinously easy and somewhat-fun "job," she helps us out with our food supply. It's a nice routine, and honestly, I'd do it for free if she needed me to.

I don't know where along the lines I became this reliable person. Maybe I've always been kind of "old faithful" for my friends... I'd like to think that if they're ever really in a bind, they can turn to me to help in any way I can. When it comes to actual jobs that I've had, however, I've not ever been all that reliable. I've called off work for so many different things, most of which usually didn't actually involve me being sick. I've shown up late, although never more than half an hour or so. The most unreliable thing I've ever done is to walk off the job entirely at some point during my shift. As much as I hate to admit it, I've walked off of or been fired from every single job that I've ever had. Even the job that I had just before I moved to Indiana, I failed to give adequate notice. I did try, though. I really did. I just couldn't stand to be separated from Marc for another week.

Part of the problem for me has been finding work that keeps my mind off of my feelings about everything and anything -- if I'm not enjoying what I'm doing... or at least being rather occupied with it... my mind tends to wander away from the job and into my emotions about everything. With my borderline personality disorder comes an insatiable and irresistible urge to think about how everything around makes me feel. While this might not sound like it's all that horrible in principle, in practice, it can be rather counterproductive. For example, one particularly emotional day while I was working at Wal-Mart as a cashier, it seemed like every customer to come through my line was actually a couple or part of one. At that point in time, I was very lonely, having isolated myself emotionally from anyone that might want to know me on a romantically intimate level. Somehow, I managed to translate their seemingly constant appearance in my line as God getting back at me for some horrible transgression. As is by now quite normal for me, I started working myself up over it, telling myself in my thoughts that I was unworthy of love and shouldn't be jealous because their purpose was to prove my unworthiness to me. Yeah, messed up, I know.

Another problem for me has been finding a working environment that surrounds me with personalities I jive well with. For whatever reason -- likely because I just became used to it being so during childhood -- I often feel as though I'm under attack if anyone critiques me or wants me to perform a job task I haven't gotten around to yet. I also have a tendency to come across as angry when I'm actually just mildly annoyed. THAT one, I know I can blame on my mother. She always sounds ticked even if she's just kidding. Well, maybe not always, but rather often. Then again, I'm great at mistranslating others' interactions with me, so it might just be another maladaptive trait on my part. One glaring example of my inability to understand others' interactions with me is when I was fired from Ponderosa. I felt I was being targeted when asked to deck scrub beneath some prep tables, so I raised a HUGE fuss about being "the only that is ever required to deck scrub." I wasn't outright refusing to actually DO the deck scrubbing, so I don't think actual insubordination was the reason for my being fired. I just complained about it the whole time, shoving and banging things around. Perhaps it was the somewhat-violent nature of my outburst. I guess I'll never know for sure, but it doesn't really matter anymore either.

I'm actually hopeful nowadays that I can eventually figure out what career I can take up AND enjoy AND succeed at AND stick with for the long-term. Unfortunately, I still flip flop between career choices weekly. Sometimes I want to be a therapist, sometimes a teacher, sometimes a semi-truck driver, sometimes a musician, sometimes a computer technician.... I don't know why I can't just figure out like most everyone else does at some point what I want to put my energy towards.

If professional blogging was a career choice, I think that might actually be the right one for me.