I have been accused of having a “magical” mind. It wasn’t a compliment. I was told that things (i.e., money, jobs, life, etc) are not magical. And yet….It appears that I will be here on Treasure Island, 150 steps from the beach, for yet another month. I have magically been granted another stay. I am also actively interviewing and have a couple of very good prospects (which is almost magic when you consider how many resumes I’ve sent out and have been ignored). Since the timing of these interviews was smack-dab in the middle of my self-imposed deadline for staying or leaving it became apparent that to see this adventure through to it’s ending…again..I should stay longer and complete the process.
I have not been writing, until today. I have been frozen in the creative category wondering what will happen. I’ve been sending out lots of resumes. Getting calls almost daily. Some promising jobs only to have them rescinded a day or so later. I’ve had a call for a job in Pittsburgh, I’ve had a call for a job here to start ASAP then never heard from them again (until days later). I’ve showed up for interviews only to be told the job has been filled. But I stay hopeful. I will not give up.
In other news…
Three weeks ago I had wanted closure with he-who-shall-not-be-named. I was hoping for a closure day. Closure day turned into closure weeks. It never turns out how you envision. First day was arguing, next time together was better, and now it has evened itself out. I have come to enjoy his company when I see him but not crave it. He’s still there for me, but in a different way. At some point I stopped being sad. Just like that. I don’t remember when it happened, why or how, but I no longer miss it. I am finding myself again, such as it is. At the moment I’m back to the familiar struggle of survival and all it encompasses. Mostly it encompasses faith (not that Faith). Faith that my bills will get paid, faith that I’ll get that job, faith that I’ll get through the next week. I have different ways of coping with that struggle now. I walk on the beach. I float in the Gulf. I go to Sunset. I sit with the turtles ( I saw one come of the nest last night, just one). Oh and I watch Game of Thrones. Talk about struggles. Sheesh. Transitioning back into this lifestyle was hard, and sad. But I know this stress. I recognize myself. I see me and I can see me pulling myself out of it, eventually.
I have set deadlines for myself and as usual God is laughing at them. Not only does he give me a “bone” to tease me at every single self-imposed deadline, but seemingly has no follow through, always extending the inevitable. But what is the inevitable? Am I staying? Am I going? Each time I think “this is it, I’m going” I get another bone thrown my way. I’m sure he’s laughing at me. I’m laughing at me. It’s comical.
But it’s not magical, is it?