Annoying Autobiographical Ramblings #369
Sitting about the house for the best part of a month has taught me a couple of things. I've had long strands and fragments of time to do nothing but think.
And that is not always of the good.
The first week out of surgery, I was as stoned as a betsy bug, as my dear deceased grandmother would say.
I remember fragments of things but nothing of consequence other than watching
"Female Trouble" with my sister and teaching the niece, Charley Bear, how to cheat at cards.
Percodan will do that to you.
The second week out, I was finding my balance and learning how to deal with major body parts gone and new ones in. It sort of hurt.
Bad.
But I got through that and I'm feeling much better although I get tired rather quickly even now.
Last week, I was consumed by, for the first time in recent history (more like 15 years), not being a part of the election while working at a media outlet.
I mourned. I grieved and unless you've ever been in a newsroom on election night, you have no idea how this impacted me. Some folks don't like it, but I thrive on it.
And this year's election was big, so I hauled the laptop up and blogged about it, but it wasn't the same.
It was cool, but just not the same.
This week, I'm transitioning. It is amazing that my absence from the paper hasn't really been noticed that much. I'm a realist. I know I can be replaced in 2.2 seconds.
But it was still shocking to me that I wasn't really required.
Slightly missed, perhaps, but not needed. And I'm one of those folks that has to have purpose to it always knocks me off kilter when it's revealed to me that I'm nothing more than a nice, and occasionally jovial, distraction.
I'm not really sure that my publishers even noticed that I wasn't around. And now I may owe them money for being off, and I'm dealing with that. It was not something I expected.
So I got to thinking crazy thoughts like purpose.
Mine.
I'm not sure where I fit in. I'm probably on a pity pot about it all which makes me feel even more unnecessary and quite stupid.
So, I guess, as we all do or at least I think we do, to find my own personal path.
And, I'm hearing that these feelings of mortality and purpose are unique for people who have just had a life-altering event.
Jeez, I need to quit being honest on this blog, don't I?
But then again, I can always take an expedition to find Bigfoot.
Anyone up for financing a trip, contacting the Discovery Channel and going forward with this beautifully lush waste of time?
I'm going into work tomorrow for a bit. I don't want to disrupt the karma in the office on a paperday. Thursday, I'll go in further.
And I seek balance from deep within myself.
And we move on.