Tag: Work

mini staycation

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first day off;
doctors appointments
(oral and orbits),
errands to run,
only to snake
myself back inside
where the hum
of a senior fur creature’s
breathing meets my
ears.

This is the first day of my five-day (weekend included) mini staycation. I’ve a dental and an opthalmologist’s appointment, a little bit of grocery shopping to get done, and a whole bunch of loving up on Jernee. Happy weekend, folks!

A Change of Plans

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Living room view #1
Living room view #2
Living room view #3 & Jernee

After debating for the last week because my anxiety has been through the roof about this move, I’ve decided to stay at my current location. Thankfully, I recently received a raise from my job and our job is issuing significant bonuses in a few weeks and I still get my quarterly bonuses for meeting or exceeding my scheduling metrics. This takes a bit of the stress off of me financially, especially having received the raise.

I contacted my current apartment complex and thankfully, no one had leased my apartment. I renewed my lease and everything is back in order. I love my place. I love my neighborhood. I was sincerely dreading moving but without this most recent increase in income, I would have had to move.

Since I unpacked everything and got my place cleaned and back in order, I decided to rearrange my living room furniture. That’s why I’m sharing these pictures. I love the setup. It took Jernee the entire Tuesday morning and into mid-afternoon before she adjusted to the change. She is NOT a fan of change. Lol. I like it. I think I’ll leave it this way until we move in the future.

I still have a goal of moving to Asheville, North Carolina or very near to it in the next two to three years. I’m patient. I think I’m right where I need to be until it’s time for me not to be here anymore.

This is the Hard Part

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The packing . . .

The first set, placed closest to my front door.
Seven boxes probably ten more to go.

I would rather unpack any day. When packing up things for moving, there is also discarding items no longer needed, giving away other items one no longer needs, but are still of good use, and cleaning up the now empty areas along the way.

I retrieved two boxes from my local Harris Teeter and I’ll get a few more from them this week. My old co-worker has three boxes for me as well. I’ll be meeting her sometime later this week to get those from her. And into the weekend, I’ll do more packing, throwing away stuff, and cleaning.

The weekend of October 22nd will be here before you know it. I have to reserve the movers, go and pay the pet deposit and pro-rated rent amount, and pack, pack, pack. Ugh. I’ll be glad when this is over and done. I am already exhausted.

Moving is not for the faint of heart or the unmotivated!

spent

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Photo by Firdaus Ismail via Redshot

a lamentation

the work comes — it goes
every call is torture to the bones.
we communicate with vigor, yet
with ease. 
patients want to know 
listeners can schedule their appointments
and offer empathy too.

a doctor’s office landed in
my teammate’s queue — their issue
crept in without cause.
a 3-month-old showing symptoms
of a virus meant for adults and the elders
in the early stages, but really
did they know who it 
would attack and who it
would leave alone?

when we start scanning babies
with machinery doling out
radiation because their lungs
are about to collapse, the world
is truly at its end.
I shout at the screen housing 
messaging tools and the software
we need to scan through 
thousands of accounts.

it doesn’t shout back.

I can tell my days are beginning
to blend — Monday is Friday.
Tuesday is Thursday. 
I don’t know what weekends are anymore.
and the lovers of this world continue
on, sampling pain in
little festive bags — afraid to share
their happiness.

who will appreciate it?

“I am spent,” I say this to 
my mom as she breathes on the
receiving end of the call.
she’s breathing . . . breathing. 
how often have we taken this for granted?
breathing . . .
she hears me — pauses for effect.
she tells me she is afraid to
go outside and I understand.

I understand.

I spend many of my days
arguing with God — telling him how
I really feel. he knows. I know he knows.
but, I tell him anyway.
I want to wade through waters
less choppy and with each
passing moment, the hardness comes
and my face has bruises I
no longer hide.

“I am spent,” I say to anyone
who will listen.

I am almost at my end.

Originally published in my new publication soliloque via Medium.