Right now I'm sitting at home, listening to the '80s channel on MusicChoice.
I normally would be running out my front door, making a mad dash for my truck so I could make it to work on time. But I don't need to do that today. Or for that matter, any day in the near future.
I never thought it would ever happen to me, but the long arm of the unemployment fairy clubbered me over the head. I was one of a few dozen employees at my job to be cut down by the awful recession.
Me, of all people.
I say that, not because I think I deserved to stay and others deserved to get the 'ol heave-ho before me. I would never say that - out loud. No, I know losing my job had nothing to do with my work performance or skills. Hell, I worked over 60 hours on my job every week. It was just the person I am. For some reason, my obsessive compulsion nature (a well hidden secret - or so I hope) put myself in the mind frame that if I worked my 40 hours weekly, I was cheating myself out of something. I know it's weird, and I never really wanted people to know that I do have that obsessive compulsive disorder. I don't even think my best friends in my life know that about me. Well, my best friend for almost 30 years knows this about me, and likely my sister (whom I consider one of my best friends) knows it, too. I've tried to never discuss it; I think it's one of the most embarrassing things about me. And those who know me are aware that I like to put on a good impression and appearance.
So right now, slowly all of those obsessive compulsive idiosyncracies of mine are, little by little, resurfacing. When I was working 60-plus hours a week, it was easy to disguise these qualities in me. But as I've gone from working 60-plus hours a week to zero, it's very difficult to keep those traits at bay. I'm trying my best, but as one of those traits for me is never being able to sleep, that is the most important issue to correct. I haven't slept in a few days, but I've always only needed to sleep 3 or 4 hours a day anyway. I'm not worried yet - I think.
I guess the truth is that I also feel guilty, a feeling I haven't felt in a little while. See, I worked like a hounddog for years, also trying to work at least 12 hours a day. If I left before 12 hours, I felt like I was cheating myself. So even when my mother was sick, I would work my ass off to forget all the craziness, because when I was working incessantly, I knew I was in control of my fate.
So now I have to realize that as I worked so long and hard, and as my mother got worse and worse, I could find solace in the fact that work was so important and even though my mother didn't like the fact that I was a workaholic like my father, she appreciated my drive. And as I know that she never blamed me for being a workaholic, I am very upset that my workaholic nature, which kept me from being with my mother when she needed me the most in her life (during her illnesses), really was for naught. The reason - no matter how much I worked on advancing my career and giving 200 percent to my job, in the blink of an eye I was cut from my job.
So now I don't have a job, and this time, which I would have loved to spend being there for my mom right now, isn't even important because my mother is gone. Boy, timing sucks sometimes.
I can't help but wonder why I'm in this position. As I recall, the famous saying is that when a door closes a window opens. But why are there bars on my windows? So the door has closed, the windows are opened. But I'm locked inside. I don't really feel too much like going outside. I mean, why go outside? I know it will make me feel better, at least that's what I've been told. But I just don't believe it, because when I've gone ouside as of late, it just feels blah.
Don't get it twisted ... I am not feeling sorry for myself, that's just not me. But I am feeling a tornado of feelings, and I'm not sure what they are and how to stop them from overflooding me.
Time, I know, time will change things. Lord, I hope time will make me feel better. I'm confident it will, and I'll keep telling myself that.
I know one thing is a definite ... all crazy, drama-filled guys who think I'm an easy target right now - beware! I know I enjoy the company of gentlemen, but rest assured (and be forewarned) that I am in no mood to put up with any crap from any of you.
So don't try to get to me with anything less than a sincere, honest approach. And don't venture into my fortress unless you are indeed a prince. Because just as always, toads will get squashed.
I've cleansed myself of all the toads in my life. And to make it a done deal, I've gone through my cell phone and black book, and have erased your numbers from both.
So for the stalker who keeps trying to contact me every time you run into me out around town, don't call me again.
For the guy who dresses like he's a throwback from the '80s, don't call me again.
For the couple of wishy-washy guys who try to ingratiate themselves into my life by using the "poor, pitiful me" routine and think I'm going to fall all over you in a flawed attempt to "save you from yourself", leave me alone.
And for all of the jerks who make every attempt to fool me with kind words, a genuine nature, sex appeal and winning smile, I can see right through you now. The few of you know who you are, and I'm no longer impressed.
I'm vulnerable, but I know that I am only going to date the guy who comes to me with an open mind, open heart and who I won't have to open my wallet to make him happy. He's out there, I know it. I may be a hopeless romantic, but I still know it's not hopeless.
So man of my dreams (or at least man who's not my nightmare), break down those bars on the window and come through. There is a key though, but I'll only let you have it if you're worth possessing it.
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