Discombobulation

My daily routine has been disrupted, and suddenly I want OUT.  I realize that I have been a civil servant for over 30 years, minus that brief 18-month hiatus (but even then I was working on call for a library.)  This is not a new realization, I whine about this all the time.  But for some reason, it feels more visceral than usual.  I'm almost ready to march into the Administrative offices and say, "Enough! Genug!" I am not visualizing it, I can almost feel myself doing it.  I smell that fug from the sewers and unwashed customers.  I see the beige, square architecture.  I blink in the fluorescent lights, I walk up the stairs, noting the art posters on the brick walls.  I skirt the doors to the offices, which are always locked, and open the swinging gate into the Customer Service office, smiling and nodding at T who is talking on her headset with some disgruntled customer.  I circle the offices, looking for the Assistant Director who is the most appropriate recipient for my message.

But I'm not sure if I want to Just Leave, or if I want to do something different.

On some level, I want to create my own job with the Library, one that utilizes my creativity, one that does not have me clocking when I arrive at my desk and when I leave for lunch and when I come back. This week's schedule is perfect:  work a Sunday, make up the time by starting late, leaving early, visiting schools and daycares.  I am active, and I am seeing different people and doing different things. I am not working 8-hour days.

But, I'm still clocking my time, mentally.  And therein lies the problem.

I am tired of working at someone else's schedule to someone else's specs.  I love the work I do, but I want to do it on my own terms.  I want to work with people who inspire me or at the very least entertain me.  I don't want to spend 40+ hours a week with unlikable people with whom I share no interests or goals.  Well, that's a bit harsh:  they are likable on their own turf, and we do have a few interests in common.  Not enough to get through 8 slow hours, though.

The last few days have been full of conversations and events that are somehow melding into one big decision:  should I go or should I stay?

1.  On this morning's walk, JR was talking about the commencement address she listened to over the weekend:  all about making your own opportunities.  Is it too late for me to do that?  The address was directed at people beginning their careers, and I am close to ending mine.  I could actually retire in one year, but probably should wait for 5.  And then I have close to 30 years more in which to live, work, love, and play.  What opportunity can I create for that time frame?   What skills or affinities do I want to employ?

There are so many options.

2,  Yesterday I was helping J cut down her dead tree. The sun was hot, but the breeze was cool against my sweaty bark-and-resin-covered skin.  The scent of juniper was sweet in my nostrils. It reminded me of how much I liked archaeology:  the combination of physical and mental activity was just about perfect. We talked and were silent; we clipped, sawed, broke branches. I was absorbed to the point of dizziness....oh that was lack of water and food.

I like it when I forget about those bodily needs, but my body doesn't.

J suggested I take my love of travel and become a tour guide.  Apparently there's a place in San Francisco that offers a 15-day course and then promises to place you.  At the very least, it would be a fun working vacation.  I enjoy those.

Actually, I want to be a travel writer or a wine importer:  travel to various wineries, write about them, buy up the stock, and bring it home to share with my friends and family.  How do I create that opportunity, I wonder?  Just visualizing or putting it out to the universe is not enough.  I've been doing that for 25 years.

3.  A woman who was on the interview panel for UNM-Gallup last year contacted me yesterday.  She is interviewing for a job with ABC, and we are meeting for coffee afterwards.  I wonder:  should I have accepted the UNM 20-hour position?  Or, should I have accepted the position at Aztec, a year before that?  Should I have never left MCL?  Should I have stayed in PDX?   As I think through those choices, I believe they were the correct choices at the time. But things are different now.  I don't think I want to move back to PDX, but I don't necessarily want to stay in ABQ.  It seems to me that what I really need to be doing is jettisoning the safe routines and the familiar surroundings.  I don't need the cushion of a civil service job:  I have a reasonable retirement.  I don't need possessions:  I have pared down my lifestyle.  And, I don't need to live in any particular place:  I have left my old friends, and my new friends won't miss me.

4.   J mentioned that I am used to having far more money than she ever had....a reality check.  M  is stranded in Asia, looking for work:  out of money, out of luck.  That is not my case, nor, despite the last year, have I ever hit rock bottom.  Am I too smug in my ever-cushioned comfort zone?  Should I be glad I have a job, any job, without fussing about being ful-fucking-filled, for god's sake?!

5.  Yesterday was the first Monday in 6 months that I did not spend sobbing and regretting and self-flagellating.  Am I well?  Ready to move on?

But what do I want to do instead? I kinda miss being a basket case:  it was easier than synthesizing experiences and thoughts and coming up with a goal.

What I need to do is get ready to go to work.  Today at least.