Hello, Old Friends

Well, now, it has been a while.  One of the big problems with being a depressive is that one tends to et depressed on occasion.  And I have had more than  my fair share of things to be depressed about.  Job loss.  Impending divorce.  Health issues.  It's been enough to make me ponder (not seriously) sucking on the barrel of a shotgun.

I have come more and more to realize how much of my own self-defeating behaviors have led to these problems.  That doesn't change the fact that they exist and need to be overcome.  It also doesn't mean I am doomed to repeat the cycle.  I am learning to recognize these patterns and overcome them.  Hopefully, the next time around, I'll make changes and spot danger before I step on my dick.  The Journey from Abandonment to Healing: Turn the End of a Relationship into the Beginning of a New Life, a book I have been reading, has been a big help.  If any readers have similar issues to the ones I have whined about incessantly, it may be useful.

Anyway, I'm hoping to hear good news on the job front this week.  Once that happens, I can get my house in order, separation-wise.  No matter how things turn out, I know that Wife and I need time apart.  The angina is good for one thing, too.  It let's me know I still have a heart and it's still beating. 

Oh, and if anyone is feeling insanely rich and generous and wants to bring a smile to my face, I really want one of these: 

I Gotta Get Out of This Place

The worst thing about being unemployed is that you have no place to go most of the time, so you end up sitting at home, driving your family crazy and having them do the same to you.  It's kind of like The Shining.  At least I haven't started seeing twin girls in period costume yet.  But I'm not ruling it out.

I'm getting a lot of yardwork done, but that's hardly the sort of thing that inspires bold and beautiful blog posts.  Hang in there, kids.  I'll think of something to say worth reading soon enough.

Sorry, We Don't Love You Anymore

I got laid-off today.  Made redundant, as our mushy--mouthed friends Across the Pond would say.  Canned, as the workers say.  I saw it coming, but that doesn't really make it any easier to take when the ax comes down.  I'll be okay.  It's not the first time it happened and, as much as I'd like to believe I'm wrong, it may not be the last.  Thanks to foresight, I had already begun looking around, so I have a few irons in the fire.

And it's Friday.  So I'll relax this weekend, post to the blow once or twice, maybe have a bloody mary or two on Sunday at brunch, and come Monday morning, I'll wake up and start hitting up connection, friends, and anyone else I can get to take my call for leads.

Getting re-employed is a job, just like any other.