The strangest thing about being home is how familiar and easy so many things are. Most striking is how easy it is to navigate the town. I get on the metro and the best way to get on the right train, even when taking an unfamiliar route, is to turn my brain off and just let my body take me to the correct platform/exit/street corner. It's only if I start thinking that I get confused.
The other day, when I got the van started, I drove it around a bit and ended up going to Ikea for the Ikea lunch and a few dribs and drabs to liven up the place (new storage containers, plastic cups for the bathroom, new curtains for the living room, chocolate, etc.). While driving more or less happily along, I realized it was my first time behind the wheel in seven months. Yet, I was completely at ease, remembered all the tricky aspects of driving the van (backing that thing up is a nightmare) and didn't have a single problem.
Sure, I still don't like my job, but I am torn. I can clearly see my value to this organization. They need me. It's good to be needed. I have a lot of identity tied up in this position. It's my career, for good or ill. I still am sure that I want out but I also want to go out on a high note--really give it a good effort for the next several months. Do some excellent work. And if I can stir some enthusiasm in myself, that would be great. If I can't, at least I can leave knowing I really tried.
Kent and I are in regular contact and I only occassionally wonder how long that will be the case. It's good to know he's out there, caring a bit about what goes on with me. It makes me a little sad when I think we have no plans to see each other. I need to start checking on travel deals to London...wonder what he thinks about that! (Kent, you heard it here first.)
Grateful for: a good, if imperfect, life.
The other day, when I got the van started, I drove it around a bit and ended up going to Ikea for the Ikea lunch and a few dribs and drabs to liven up the place (new storage containers, plastic cups for the bathroom, new curtains for the living room, chocolate, etc.). While driving more or less happily along, I realized it was my first time behind the wheel in seven months. Yet, I was completely at ease, remembered all the tricky aspects of driving the van (backing that thing up is a nightmare) and didn't have a single problem.
Sure, I still don't like my job, but I am torn. I can clearly see my value to this organization. They need me. It's good to be needed. I have a lot of identity tied up in this position. It's my career, for good or ill. I still am sure that I want out but I also want to go out on a high note--really give it a good effort for the next several months. Do some excellent work. And if I can stir some enthusiasm in myself, that would be great. If I can't, at least I can leave knowing I really tried.
Kent and I are in regular contact and I only occassionally wonder how long that will be the case. It's good to know he's out there, caring a bit about what goes on with me. It makes me a little sad when I think we have no plans to see each other. I need to start checking on travel deals to London...wonder what he thinks about that! (Kent, you heard it here first.)
Grateful for: a good, if imperfect, life.
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