All I Want In the Universe

Well, fuck.

This calls for me to get a clue.


by Galway Kinnell

Whatever happens. Whatever
what is is is what
I want. Only that. But that.

I’m in a dangerous part of myself right now because everything justifies everything else and you can feel the tempest beginning to turn inside this little teapot dome.   Tomorrow is my very last day at the job (unless I decide to come in and help which is another topic entirely) – the job that I have alluded to almost daily for the past four years of blogging as a driver of my mental health issues.  I’m leaving it and I don’t have perfect assurances that where I am going will be so very different, but I have some assurances and some relief if only just in the thought that the faces get to change, the clinging gets to stop, and there is at least a weekend’s breadth between the frying pan and into the fire.  A chance to get myself together, get posting regularly again, and feel properly alive.  Or, you know, not just jetlagged, full of snot, pressurized about trying to spend next eight hours telling my replacement about my job as though I can just barf out everything she’ll ever need and she’ll be able to absorb it.

I worry.  I have to let it go, though.

So, I don’t even know if I posted yesterday because I passed out sometime around nine or ten in bed and woke up at 3:30a.m. with a sense of wakefulness that was visceral and compulsory.  So I sat up and played with the Dragon Age Keep beta which was great except it kept making me restart everything and then I put on an episode of the Voice on Hulu and wooosh.  I didn’t sleep and it ended up suddenly at 7:30a.m. and THAT made for a stressful day, let me tell you.

Especially as this was also the day of the second goodbye party/lunch thrown on my behalf and having twenty ladies give you cards and take you to a tea room (with, I’m so sorry to say, food that has been repeating on me ever since I got its coconutty-laced chicken salad and sugary as hell buttermilk pie down my gullet).  They read off complimentary emails, gave me flowers and Amazon gift cards and had me stand in yet another receiving line for people to take pictures with me.  Me and my face that looks like it got run over twice by a Mack truck.  Still, it was moving and nice and I got suitably weepy yet again.

It’s sort of impossible to believe what’s come and gone between my start date there and now…so many of them commented on how nice it was to see me grow.  I  just have to keep going and stay focused and caring about new things, even though right now, all I want in the universe it to say fuck it and go run around laughing.

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