Here We Are

Finished the first day of work yesterday. Various muscles in my body are sore from it. Gonna relax, ’cause I’m going back in just a few hours. Not only are my muscles sore, there’s some compartment in my brain that are like those muscles: underused in my unemployed time. There’s gonna be an adjustment period. I hope it’s short.

CNA is hard work. I’m stretched real thin and paid peanuts. Talk to CNA’s and RN’s it seems the same deal for all of them. At least, that’s what I learned last night. We’ll see if that impression stays. I’ve met some burly people who endure the punishment with aplomb. Usually women 40’s-50’s and foreign. I respect that strength in them. One of these days, I’d like to be that tough.

I feel soft.

Yesterday, I cannot help but think I punish myself more than I should for things not worth it. I wonder where I learned this behavior. Worse, how did I cultivate it? I suspect it’s the art process that made me neurotic. I did it in a smart way, unfortunately, while it enhanced the quality of the product it harmed me in the process. I can . . .

You know what?  In second though, this is me and what I’m made to do. I think I’m made to punish myself no matter what I do. There’s a deep part of me that’s attracted to failure for two reasons. First: the challenge factor. If I can manage to make it work, I get that much more kudos and credit. Also, I’m a smart fucker, making the difficult stuff work is intellectually challenging. It does keep a feller on his toes. Second: If it, whatever “it” may be, does continue to fail, I am absolved of blame. It wasn’t me, it was the system. Self esteem intact.

I have also noticed that I’m a man who is made to master things. Correction, master A thing. I want the simplicity of one thing and to refine that thing into perfection. I suspect that’s what I’ve learned as an addict. I know what I like, I don’t need the variety, I enjoy the structure of it. It shelters me and is comfortable.

None of this is a bad thing. Not a whit. The struggle seems to come with finding the best way to use these traits to increase my success and happiness in life. Like everyone else, I’m doing the best I can with what I have. Which I enjoy. It comforts me. Under that rule, I cannot take myself too seriously. Plus that knowledge gives me a bonus of empathy when trying to understand the actions of others. It’s much easier to forgive and not allow things and actions to get to a person.

So, upon review. I am effectively trading in my art talents for a career. No need to obsess over art and the vagueness of success in the venue versus a paying career. It’s easier to know which hoops to jump through, my worth is given a dollar amount. It’s less nebulous that way.

Yeah, I have my second thoughts about the art thing. I do. As recently as writing this. “I can do this” I often tell myself. I’m tired of doing that. I want to do something where my successes are more tangible. Easier to document. My heart broke deeply to write a book, the greatest accomplishment in my life, and to have no support or recognition. I still can’t tell you how come I couldn’t make it into something monetary. I do blame myself. The art was just fine. even the poetry being mediocre shouldn’t have prevented . . .

I digress. This blog post wasn’t intended to end up as a wrestling match between me and my demons. Neither was it intended as self propaganda. To remind me I am doing the right thing, even though I don’t know if I am.

Uhg, I am feeling fatigued from entertaining the uncertainty. I’m gonna go get something to eat and I’ll write a small something here tomorrow.

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