This is the second installment my not a resolution post. Figured it was a good way to get the year going. I’m sure you’re not thinking, ‘Gee Ro’ there should be another two posts.” Well, you know what? You’re correct, but it appears the first year I was being distracted, and last year I was in the clink. It’s been just over 6 months since I got out.
Like I said last time, I don’t fucking do resolutions. But I made one a this past year, that I am doing my best, every single day, to maintain; to not go back to prison. It’s pretty simple, in fact, ending up there is like winning a small raffle. California’s prison population is around 112k, California’s estimated population in 2014 was around 38 million. I was one of the lucky .003%. Take that occupiers.
It’s been way good being out. I was able to reconnect with some cats on twitter. Saw that a few cats had dropped me from their timeline. Connected with a fellow spherian, who even answered a question for me. I was even able to provide an hour or so of “you know, so, and um,” responses for a podcast with The Good Doctor. (Podcast Link)
I remember when I got a job working for county government. I thought I had made it. Finally out of the public spotlight, no longer opening a cash drawer for grumpy cunts and even worse supervisors. I was starting as a pencil pusher, but I had paid vacation, sick time, retirement accruals and a set schedule. The work wasn’t challenging so I applied myself in other areas and applied for any promotion I could. At one point I was on a service call with out IT department and the lady on the phone jokingly asked, “why aren’t you working for us?”
“Because I don’t have the experience.”
Shortly after I got a localized IT position and it was at this point I really thought I had made it. I had more than doubled my entry pay, I had my own office and a cush ass program. But the work wasn’t challenging and there wasn’t anywhere else to apply myself without a college degree. Much like Kanye, I’m a college dropout.
In a rapid fashion I went from being a gung ho to being severely depressed. I would kick out my work in about 2 hours, then spend the rest of the day reading or sleeping in my desk chair with the door closed. My soul was being sucked out of my sinuses one second at a time and there was no end in sight.
I set my shortsighted, narrow vision on the glass ceiling and waited for the weight to fall. The weight of my hopelessness overpowered all that I had done to get to that point. Keeping my shit afloat in a dead end job as a cashier? Forgotten. Starting from a pencil pushing green skin and moving to a prized position? Couldn’t recall. Every single step that was struggle to put in front of the last foot was diminished.
I couldn’t get out of my own way. The glass ceiling and soul sucking job were the means to an end, not something I could move past, breakthrough, or overcome. I closed my windows of opportunity and put up the calming reflective foil of a tweakers tint job.
What all of that boils down to is a behavior not unfamiliar to me.
For over 6 months I’ve been a fucking fat acrobat jumping through hoops and I’m doing a bright job of it all. Sometimes though maaaan. Sometimes I come close to just losing my shit for a minute.
I took that bro fist for granted. Had to go check in the other day. Well Bro Fist PO is now retired and guess what Ro’? You got someone new. She’s all nicey nice on the surface, but behind her black eyes, I can tell, she has a mind for self righteous vengeance. Either that or she likes to show her power. Either way, she’s tightened the leash, just as I was getting some breathing room.
“It might change once we get to know each other,” she says.
Four months friends. Four months is all that is left. But I left in a fume today.
However, I shall not forget all that I’ve done to get to this point. What is the difference?
When I got out, I would do anything I had to in order to stay on the outs. Jump without question. What’s changed?
Adjust the attitude.
Remember the past.
Get out of my own way.