Waxing in Book Four: Ichi-no-Tani 2017

Writing what nobody wants to read. Living what nobody wants to live.

I tend to get a little depressed when I’m sick. I mean, I’m weaker so my pain increases and I’m not getting as much sleep as usual, which is already less sleep than needed. And the added joy of being sick but having THE BIG WEEK because this is when Bosses are preparing to go to China. As if I needed more reason to be tired, drained, and miserable. Just a big ol’ storm cell swirling together.

On my drive in to work, I see parents with their children… car poolers sharing a ride with their co-workers… I get in to the criss-crossing maze of Skywalk Hallways that lead everywhere in Downtown DM, and I see groups of people discussing their day… their lives. And I wonder… how did that become so distant from me? How did working with other people, working an 8 to 5 job with minimal Out-of-Work expectations… how did that become so… out of reach? If I had known, I would have simply taken a job as a receptionist out of High School. Because… you’ve heard it all before anyway. My only salary expectation is that my work is met with a salary of proportionate reasonable value. My only benefits expectation are that they exist. And yet… here I sit. In another lone little office. In another situation with no co-workers, not really. With the added joy of rarely seeing my wife because of our hours. Hers: the hours of retail. Me: the hours of “Whenever the bosses say so!” And while I know that there are opportunities to see family and friends (provided I work around Bosses’ schedules and demands)… the agonizing loneliness of this position rears its head again. Because there are no co-workers with whom to commiserate. There are no co-workers who could cover for me should I need to call in sick. There is no support network here… no “build you up to become better” about this job. I acknowledge that it is largely due to my current lack of health but… the tears that form at the edges of my eyes cannot be denied. And a drum beat of a thought forms in my head. HOW DO I JOIN THE WORLD?

I am an educated man. With the wrong education. If I had a B.A. in finance or business or management… but I have a B.A. in Religious Studies. And apparently, nobody wants to hire someone with a J.D. And it is frustrating and heart breaking. I got a phone call this morning from a guy who has a steady job, works 7 to 4 every weekday, has the weekends off… got busted with a massive cache of Child Pornography. HE gets to live in the world. I have clients who live in decent houses, have steady work and families, get to enjoy their time away from work… and they do heroin on the weekends. THEY get to live in the world. Fuck, even the Chinese Clients! They come here with no English skills and a pocket full of cash; drink and drive, smoke marijuana on the streets, act like they can do whatever they want… THEY get to live in the world. What terrible sin must I have committed in this or a previous life to be trapped in this situation?

Now I’m practically sobbing at my desk. If I had stayed in Tiny Town? The new County Attorney Dan would have been okay with me calling in sick. “Better to go without you for one day so you can get better than have a sick attorney for two weeks.” If I had stayed in Tiny Town? I would have been lonely outside of work… but I would have had Cecilia there at work most days, so at least someone to talk to. And there’s the rub. I moved to a city with more opportunity, more friends, more family… but if I haven’t the energy or the time to see them? What is better… being lonely in a place where you expect to be lonely or being lonely in a place where you expect NOT to be lonely?

And for me… it all comes back around to those faces in the morning. The people busily scurrying off to their 8 to 5 jobs. The people who have barbecues and get togethers. The folks who raise families. Even when I was working at BEST BUY, that was me. Yeah, it wasn’t an 8 to 5 and there were shit loads of issues… But steady hours… health insurance… and the ability to have a life outside of work. As I repress a shudder, one born of feverish cold and sorrow and existential rage… I think “WHY IS THAT ASKING GOD FOR TOO MUCH?!”