Goals

I learned a few years back that because of my ADHD, I have a limited capacity for caffeine. I actually like the taste of coffee, and I'm genuinely not addicted. I just like the taste. I don't drink it daily, despite having a coffeemaker at home. Anyway, I started drinking coffee at work (even decaf) and ended up with the sleepies again. I've found that the best way to get over this caffeine induced sleepy phase is basically to go completely caffeine free for a few days and allow my body to detox.

Because of this weird thing, I was up at 3am yesterday after going to sleep at 6pm the previous day. And now I'm up. Been up since 4am, after going to sleep at about 8pm last night. I'm glad to be up though. I enjoy the quiet of the morning. The birds chirping. My home is quiet. My mind fresh and sharp. I have an appointment with patients today. I may even go hit the gym before I meet with them.

I happened to get paid yesterday, and figured that with my extra waking hours, I'd pull out my budget and see how things are coming along. I was proud to see that a few bills are within a couple hundred bucks of being paid off completely. I did the math, and I owe roughly $5k in these bills. The goal has been to pay extra each month, with the intention of being done paying by the new year. I'm currently paying more on the smaller bills, with the plans of getting them eradicated so that I can work toward the larger bills. Once this $5k of loans and stuff is paid off, I plan to tackle this crazy car loan. I may even refinance. Ultimately, I'd like to have my car paid off in 4 years, so that by the time my son graduates high school, I will be completely debt free.

My birthday is in a week and half. I'm turning the big 42. Okay, there is no "big 42," it's just "42." I'm leaving for Denver next week for my uncle's funeral. My plan was originally to try to escape to the beach for a few days to celebrate, but I'm new at my job and didn't want to rock the boat. I hate having to say goodbye to my uncle, but the timing is perfect. My son and I fly in next week and will be there for 4 nights. I fly back the day before my birthday. I could have taken my birthday off, but I plan to "work from home" because I don't want to take another unpaid day. If one of my patients really needs me, I'll go out. Otherwise, I'll probably lounge at a nearby lake and only head out if I'm needed.

I'm really looking forward to this. Things are good. They're finally good. The first half of 2022 undeniably kicked my ass. Losing Ali was one thing, but losing his father too was just unreal. Plus leaving my other job. Although, the more I look back, the more I see how uncaring they were about the loss of my cousin. Not even a "take all the time you need" kind of speech. Like, I get it. I was new. But they didn't give a shit, they wanted me to show and prove. To not be a human. I wasn't allowed to have bad days. I was expected to call them almost daily while in the process watching of my own flesh and blood dying in front of me. I have zero regrets about opting to take care of myself and my cousin during that period. If given the chance, I'd have done things the exact same way.

Meanwhile, almost 2 weeks after I started this job, my uncle died. I was immediately given all kinds of support and even attend grief meetings with coworkers. They are cool about me attending a funeral out of town. If I need to cry, I cry, and that's okay. I guess that's what happens when you work in hospice. It's their actual job to be supportive. It's literally their nature. Moving back out west is always in the back of my mind, and I often think that I'd like to continue working in hospice, or quite possibly as a school counselor when that happens. But I'll always be so thankful for this position. It has given me back my sense of purpose and peace.

I recall a subreddit I was looking at, where someone described how the character Prezbo from The Wire struggled as a police officer, before finally finding the job that worked well for him, as a teacher. They said how basically, he tried to swim upstream as a cop, something he wasn't meant for, and finally found his flow as a teacher. While the writer was simply giving their interpretation, that interpretation always stuck with me because I felt like an utter failure when I walked away from that job.

Working in hospice has allowed me to find purpose. To be good at something. To finally be in a position where my compassion and empathy is finally rewarded, not looked down on and punished, as it has been so much in other positions. No cliques. No crazy ass gossip. Today I had to help my coworker meet with a new patient's husband, and the husband happens to be famous for a kidnapping that occurred several decades ago. And I was actually thanked by upper staff for helping.

So that's where things are. I have a job that I love. I have coworkers that appreciate me who I get along well with. My bills are being paid on time, and even early. I'm doing well on my new diabetes medication and I'm looking and feeling amazing. My future is finally looking bright and I'm here for it.