I got the hospice job. I start tomorrow. Oddly, it didn't occur to me earlier that many other people would have a hard time working with individuals who are dying. During my interview, they had me tour the facility, complete with sitting in the room with an individual who was taking his final breaths. I wanted badly to whisper to him that it was okay to let go, but I didn't want to get so deep and intimate in front of my new coworkers. But watching him all shriveled up and dying? Did absolutely nothing to me. I truly don't think I would have had the stomach for it, had I not watched my cousin in his final days. I like to think that once again, he's guiding my steps, much like he tried to do when he was here.
The pay wasn't quite what I wanted, and I'm nervous about adding even more miles to my car, but I'm looking forward to the opportunity. As time winds down and my son gets ready to enter high school, most of my movements are trying to align me with moving back to Cali in a few years. I look at this opportunity to work in hospice as something else to add to my resume so that when the time comes for me to relocate, I have plenty of experience to write my ticket into employment in L.A. I'm actually still re-eligible for hire at my previous job, and even stopped in to see my former boss when I was there. I miss those people.
Anyway, since decompressing and getting ready to go back into working, I've had a bit to focus on. Truthfully, I'm kinda hurt about how things ended with Theo. He could have headed on out, fine with me. We were clearly not aligned and were barely speaking in the end. What hurt me the most is that he made it a point to act especially nasty and say hurtful things during his exit. Bruh really wanted to act like I didn't look out for him, huh? The fact is that I knew that things were over when I called him out on some bullshit he did and he made a fucked up comment that was verbatim some shit my b.d. said to me previously. I knew then and there that his days with me were numbered. I did not come as far as I did to go back into another abusive relationship.
A few days after my job acceptance, I remembered that I'd promised myself that before I started a new job, I would submit my book to a publisher. I looked over my manuscript, pretty proud at what I'd written and decided to finish up the last few edits and submit it. Damn. I did it. Even if the editor isn't feeling it, I now have a completed book, ready for publishing. Wild. I'm also planning to receive my settlement from my accident that happened back in December. Holy shit, it looks like things are finally coming together.
I called Fred and discussed my frustration with my thoughts on the progress on things with Theo. Bruh could have headed on out, fine. We weren't even smashing in the end. And here I am, about to blow up and he vanishes. Fred did an amazing job of saying "all of the blessings you have since he left just shows that he didn't deserve to share the blessings that God is giving you." I felt it. I did. Or at least, I wanted to.
And to just add to my blessings, I began taking a supplement when I got home from the road. I expected it to do good things for me. But what I didn't expect is that it has made my vagina exceptionally wet. Not that it was an issue before. I mean, progress, right?! I have a little "friend" who I've been seeing (nothing serious), but I told him about it and we're both excited to let him go for a test drive when he gets back in town. On top of that, I recently looked in the mirror, only to discover that the psoriasis that I've experienced on my chin is disappearing too.
And the next day, I checked my mail, only to find a check for $161 for an old overpayment. #Blessings
I'm geeked. I honestly haven't felt this good since I was moving to Cali a year ago. Things are finally progressing after so much death and despair.
On top of it all, I'm finally unpacking all of my stuff. Yeah, it's been a while. I have an inordinate amount of books and I almost headed to IKEA yesterday, to finally buy a bookshelf. I decided instead to look on Facebook Marketplace and I found a really cute bookshelf for only $15. My cousin, Lashondia, happened to be in town, so I had her help me to bring it in.
Since moving into this townhouse, I've wanted to create a little nook for writing, and I decided that my dining room would be the perfect place. I finally put together my old glass dining room table (I only have one chair, because the others were stolen, but I'm fine with what I have). I moved my new bookshelf into the nook area and set up my laptop here. This just feels right. I can finally write in my own little corner again.
So since I'm finally feeling like myself again, I'm starting to open my old packing boxes and finding new spots for things and throwing out other things. It's definitely process, but I'm enjoying it. I've been here since August and wasn't sure how long I'd be in this apartment, but it looks like I'll be here for at least another year, so it's time to make this place an actual home.
With all of my newfound and newly, truly single energy, I've decided that this summer will be all about the aunties. I've got liquid gold flowing through my legs and I look good. I feel good. I'm working again. Publishing, finally. I want to wear sundresses all summer and just enjoy life to the fullest. No deadbeat boyfriends, no baby daddies, no frenemy energy. I wanna drink margaritas and go to the beach. I don't want commitment of any sort, other than my son, my close friends/family, and my plans to move cross country in 4 years. I'm also planning to head back to Cali for a few days this summer, although how and when remain a mystery.
In a perfect world, I'd be able to feel this way without the bullshit that constantly comes at me. Not a perfect world though. But still, I'm happy. I'm content. I'm here.
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