Author: Mark Alexander

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Best to Leave the Past in the Past

I was going to write a short “Twenty Years Today” post because occasionally I find something worth sharing when looking back, but after actually reading a few of my Journal entries from March 1999—and then going down the rabbit hole of reading all the entries from 1999—I decided I really didn’t want to subject you to any of that.

There’s nothing lurking in the past that needs to be regurgitated now.

What stands out the most from twenty years ago is how profoundly unhappy and lost I was. While it wasn’t clear to me at the time (at least consciously) in hindsight, it screams off those pages. It’s no exaggeration to say (as I have many times) that the Mark prior to the cancer diagnosis was someone completely different from the Mark who emerged after treatment. When I think of the hundreds—no, thousands—of dollars I threw away on stuff, trying to fill the very obvious emotional hole in my life that leaps off those pages, well…I’m not here to judge that past self or anyone else, but damn gurl, I was a mess.

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Quiet Time

The doggies don’t know it’s the weekend, so almost without fail they’re dancing on me at 5:30 am, wanting to go out. I can’t sleep in the way I used to when I was younger (last Sunday returning to bed after letting them out and sleeping until 2 pm was a very rare exception), but occasionally instead of immediately feeding them after they come back in we all head back to bed for another hour or two.

Most of the time, however, I stay up and utilize this quiet time (Ben can—and does—still easily sleep in on the weekends) to write or organize the week’s downloads accumulating on my computer, or post nekkid menz while the doggies sleep on the couch in the den beside me. These seem to be the few times during the week when I can actually focus and not be distracted by every shiny object that crosses my path.

Squirrel!

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Speaking of Television Programs…

…I’d rather not publicly admit to watching.

Just once I’d love to see the outtakes from Texas Flip ‘n Move where the potential buyers/paid actors touring the finished homes prior to auction blurt out, “WTF is this crap? What were they thinking?!”

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Quote Of The Day

It all adds up to one thing: peace, silence, solitude. The world and its noise are out of sight and far away. Forest and field, sun and wind and sky, earth and water, all speak the same language.” ~ Thomas Merton

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Spoke Too Soon

Well it looks like I spoke too soon. I’m not going to be moving over to the Desktop Support position as I originally reported. My supervisor came to me yesterday afternoon and told me that he couldn’t move me over until they (“they” being those with a higher pay grade than him) hired a replacement for me on this project. “It’ll be a couple weeks in the new department and then we’ll bring you back.” I served up my best “Really, bitch?” look and said, “C’mon…it took six weeks between the time I first interviewed and actually started work.” He nodded and agreed that it may be a bit longer than two weeks. “But we aren’t going to give up!”

Whatever. As Ben is fond of saying, “It is what it is.” But I’m profoundly disappointed for a number of reasons. I was really looking forward to staying in this department. I’ve been here three months and have gotten to know all the policies and procedures—not to mention the people—pretty well. I was also looking forward to the relative stability this change would afford.

But no. As of Monday, I’ll be moving with my contractor colleague to a new department, with an entirely different IT staff and wholly different policies and procedures. We met the supervisor there, and he didn’t seem too thrilled to see either one of us.

And that promise to bring me back? At this point I’m not holding out much hope. I am mentally attempting however, to just go forward as if the events of Tuesday never happened. I’m working. It’s good income. At this point that’s what matters.

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Shower Thoughts

Considering the pronunciation of Yosemite, maybe we’ve been saying Vegemite wrong this whole time. Or vice-versa.