One Small Year

image-66570Shameful. How long it has been since I have been here.  I read old posts and marvel that I wrote them. And I remember. Where I was. What was going on? The feelings attached.

So much is different. I got a job. A job that was okay. I met great people. It was too chaotic, too unstructured, too much, OMYGODIAMNEVERGOINGTOGETALLTHISDONEANDALSOBETHECEOSADMINBECAUSEHEWILLNEVERHIREONE.  And when you tangle with a truly toxic, weird place like that you think you are incompetent. But then everyone around you does and suddenly you realize it’s not you. It’s the place.

I made a difference in spite of it. I wrote. A ton. Boring technical things. I learned enough about cybersecurity to never want a smart fridge and to be suspicious of my Echo.

And enough to get another job in cybersecurity two weeks ago.  And here I am. Working at home.

With HOTFLASHES, and a BADBACK. And oh I just need to shut up and feel blessed and lucky. Good Lord. What is WRONGWITHME that I see holes, not donuts? I want to be a LIFE LOVER. I know them when I see them and have a few out the outskirts of my life. Is that something you are born with or learn? I am 54 and stumbling around in the dark of life and want more bliss and sun. Things are SO GOOD right now overall and I just can’t seem to get it. To wallow in the goodness that is having enough money, and decent health, and love, and good kids, and sweet cats, and cars that run, and air, water, and food…

First world problems.  The water in my glass shudders as an F18 flies overhead.

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