After almost a full week off work I am back to work for exactly one day and need to be in top form. My normal schedule is Sunday through Thursday, so I’m off again Friday and Saturday.
That’s the theory, anyway, the part about top form. The reality: tonight I’m dealing with another round of uncontrolled coughing again. (It seems to have calmed a bit with me sitting here instead of trying to lie down and sleep.)
There’s a school of thought that says we really do create our own realities; that for good, bad or indifferent we make choices driving the outcomes we’re actually seeking. Kind of a twist on the psychosomatic thing, when you put it that way, isn’t it? God knows I didn’t want to be sick, but I do know this: whenever I get stressed out at work, I find myself asking the Universe for a vacation. Within a few days, like clockwork, BAM. Down I come with some nastiness. I tried being a bit more specific, asking for a HEALTHY, PAID vacation.
Meh, I guess the Universe didn’t wait around for the postscript.
This is actual , documented illness; acute bronchitis this time around, strep a few months back, and a bout with some other version of creeping crud in between.
I guess there are a lot of ways of looking at things. Could be that I’m so physically and psychologically depleted my body is susceptible to every bug that comes my way; that my subconscious is driving me to illness to force the vacations I’ve been required to forego for decades; or countless other variations on the theme.
It’s just frustrating when I have what should be rights be a dream job and it’s now being threatened with this BS. I was doing well, and yet I am being undercut again and again by health issues.
On the other hand, when I left my last job it was with the (all too honest) statement that I was hoping to retire soon, that my physical condition was deteriorating and I knew sooner or later I would have to deal with it. It was true then and is still true now. I feel like I’m in a race against the clock now to try and find income sources that will hold together even when the arthritis and voice issues drop-kick me out of the job market. I still believe everything happens for a reason, and when it comes down to brass tacks I know God and the Universe will provide when the time comes. For once, though, I’d to see the safety net before I’m in a nosedive position and two inches from the nylon webbing. Makes this high wire act a little easier to handle.
One interesting development over the unplanned time off; the kid moved out tonight. She in fact moved in with her sister and sis’s boyfriend. I told G that I am taking it with a grain of sand, but we did tell her she can’t keep going back and forth – if she goes, she needs to stay. If she holds out until our lease is up it would be a Godsend. If it’s just G and me, we can qualify for senior housing, which would be substantially cheaper, safer and would mean the kids COULDN’T come live with us any more.
We weren’t having any major issues with my daughter lately, for what it’s worth, and I can certainly understand her wanting to live around people closer to her own age. I sure hope she keeps up with her nursing school. It’s the only smart thing she’s done in a long time and if she blows it off I may just have to kick her butt.
So at the moment we’re just the two of us (three counting Ye Puppy of DoggTM) luxuriating in the possibilities posed by having a spare room again. G tonight expressed that it’s about damned time we had time to live our own lives. I just kind of smiled in the dark and shrugged. It’s all the same to me: I go to work, come home, go to work, come home. The only thing that interrupts the routine is when I’m sick like I have been lately. I won’t be making any more or any less money and while in theory it should be quieter and a bit less expensive with the kid moved out, I take it all in stride.
G’s been exceptionally lovey-dovey for the past couple of months. I don’t know whether to be more wary than ever or give him props for trying. At the moment I’m too tired to care.