Thursday, April 23, 2009

Begin Counting The Hours

People who know me might find this hard to believe, but I don't really think of myself as a complainer. Along those lines, I don't see this blog as the forum for airing what complaints or woe-is-me's I do have: that's not why this blog was created and it's certainly nothing I'm interested in perpetuating.

Having said that, this has been a shit week and I, for one, will be happy to see the end of it. When did it begin? When my mother called me last Saturday to inform me that she has been diagnosed with type 2 diabetes and that one of my sisters was going into the hospital for surgery? When I learned that J. G. Ballard, one of my favorite writers, had died of cancer? How about when I was yelled at at work for doing my job? I had not been yelled at like that, like I was a child, in such a long time I can not remember the previous occurrence. One of the advantages of not having a girlfriend is that I don't have someone yelling at me on a regular basis, so I've sort of forgotten what the experience is like.

Those were the various beginnings to a bad week. It continued: work was very busy, I felt almost punch-drunk at night, my sister had her surgery (I was concerned), I saw a friend go through a tough time, everything and everyone seemed to be suffering from a pre-spring neurosis or upheaval. A co-worker and I joked each day about having a liquid lunch and even though neither one of us did (to the best of my knowledge), it was a comforting thought.

So I'm counting down the hours until the week is over and I can just stare into space this weekend, hit reset and hope that next week is better. We'll see. Tonight in a bar I overheard two asshole businessmen make fun of the idea of working for a non-profit. I know that's sounds trite and cliched, but it is true. On the other hand, while walking home, I saw a toddler in a stroller get excited when he saw a bus. Happily, his enthusiasm was contagious.


Erin said...

I'm sorry you had such a shitty week. Unless your actions caused the death of a coworker-no one should be yelled at while at work, I don't care what the reason is. That's the shit I used to go through at my previous job, and lemmie tell you, I don't miss it.

On the bright side: Mom is okay, Ann's home and doing better, and no one slapped you in the face (tm Lowery).

Iva said...

Oh, John, I am so sorry for having added to your bad week. Seriously, I mean that.
I had not read your blog entry before today and I am sorry. I am not thrilled, by any means, about having diabetes, not so much because of me, but because it raises the risk to you kids and grandkids.
Please don't worry about me...the good thing about my type of diabetes is that it is controlable. I don't have to take insulin shots or anything like that...just a pill once a day and that seems like it's easy enough.
I'm sorry about work...Erin is right about having someone yell at you. Tell me if you think I am doing something wrong, but don't treat me like a 2 year old. I do hope things have been better since.
I love you.

Kate said...

Didn't I see you the night of this b.s. yelling episode? Bah. Well, I'm glad that I'm reading this however many months later (I can't count).

And at least it wasn't the kind of week where child sees bus, child giggles gleefully, Johnny cheers up, then bus flips over and bursts into flame.