Everything Is Fucking Fine

So. As of yesterday I am unemployed. I worked my last shift on Sunday, came home, slept for about 14 hours, woke up, ate six biscuits with jam and honey, slept for another fourteen hours and now it is today.

     In my last post I wrote about starting up a new business with my family. That same day, I got the call that told me it was not going to happen and yes, I was a little disappointed.

      I like to know that things are going to happen, I like to plan. One of the things that drove me so crazy about that job that I just left was the chaos, the inability to make a plan and stick with it. 

       I understand that life is what happens when we are making other plans. I understand that one must be flexible in life, and that God doesn't close one door without opening another and blah blah blah. I understand that when I am angry at someone I should look within myself to find my own character defects and to see my part in whatever the situation happens to be. I understand all that. I even implement it, staying calm for the most part, doing the next right thing. Or at least doing my best to do what I perceive as the next right thing, and isn't that all we can do really? 

      But I've hit the wall. I'm angry, and I'm going to let myself be angry because it is a new day and I'm not motherfucking Mary Poppins sent in to make everything better and teach everybody life lessons and then leave when the wind changes. Y'all can all go fly a fucking kite, you might as well, the weather is beautiful.

        I stopped seeing my therapist because of my unemployment, but I'll be fine. One thing she told me is that it is okay to be angry and grateful at the same time. That I don't have to feel guilty for my anger, and that sometimes anger is the appropriate emotion in a given situation. Like my accident and the resulting chronic pain. I can be grateful that I did not die and for the life lessons it taught me and for the closeness it gave me with my family, but I can also be angry that I am thirty years old and I'm dealing with decision s that most people don't have to deal with until they are 60 or older. I can be angry that I can't get out of bed without holding onto the wall and I can be angry that I fall over when the weather is changing. I don't have to feel guilty about that, even if I am standing next to someone who has no legs, your leglessness doesn't make my pain go away. Perspective is nice, but the fact is, I live in me, my perspective is through my own blood and my own bones and I have to walk my miles in my own shoes and that's enough. 

       I'm not angry at my family. How can I be angry at the only people who really like me? Who know me and still think that I'm fun to be around? No, not angry at them. I'm not angry at God. My higher power just doesn't work like that. I am loved by the universe because I am the universe, there's no fair in a swirling mass of what will be will be, my faith and serenity come from knowing that I am meant to be here because I am here, nothing more. So, not mad at God. I'm not even angry at the place I worked. I feel sorry for them, they are not happy, joyous and free. I am just angry. I am an exploding star, a suckpool of snakes. If a bull gets stung by a hornet, is he mad at the wasp, or is he just a snorting madness in general, pissed off to the max that this unexplained burning sting has happened to him? The bull does not stop to blame the wasp or God or the people who build the fence, the bull simply feels his anger, knocks down the fence, kicks and gores everything around him, and eventually feels better. I will be as the bull.

      And when I'm done kicking and snorting I will find a new job.

      Until then, please do not stand next to me. My massive horns and terrible sparking hooves do not need a hug. I am as I should be. I am one with the universe.