Get Out of Town

I have not been out of town since Christmas. That was such a debacle, I don't think that counts. So that pushes it back to mid-November. In essence (and because I'm feeling pitiful), that makes it four months since seeing anything beautiful, since getting away from the cats, since briefly putting work off to one side.

I'm always going through crises at work and I seem to have landed myself in another one. I no longer have a support system - Emma was the last of that and I haven't spoken to her since she left me at the Cheesehead Airport the day after Christmas. E seems to be loosening the mooring ropes as well. And Anonymous Boyfriend is dealing with his own issues at the moment.

Well, once upon a time, I had not just a support system but a safety net. Now I have neither. So suck it up and deal.

All of this is not helped by the feeling that depression is ever so slightly creeping back up on me.

During the latest crisis at work - which was yesterday - I just sighed and thought, you know, I really don't care. I don't care. I am sick of Yentl. I am sick of Boy Wonder. I am sick of True Boss. And I cannot believe Joe BigDog approached me about this other job when I am so obviously over my head at what I'm doing in a lesser position.

I seem to have latched onto the idea of getting out of town as a way to bolster myself back up again. I don't want much. I just would like one weekend away.

Well, it's not going to happen and that's that.

I made it through the first month of owning The Bullet with all of $38 left over. The good news is that I met all of my financial obligations and even managed two visits to Coffee Heaven. But even a visit across the river to New York is out of the question at the moment.

So I will suck it up and deal. Square my shoulders. Chin up. Take it like a mensch. And finally take my suitcase back to the basement. That's as much traveling as it's going to get for awhile.