[989] Bubble Boy

I still have stuff to figure out!

I’m getting more and more settled into the workflow of my job. It, oddly, seems very responsive to feedback from counselors and tries to actively mitigate the dozens of variables around different states and sized offices. I don’t really know what to do with that information. I’m not used to working for organizations that maybe give a shit almost as much as they want to make money. The State, in pockets, had a system, but it’d go too far to say it was more coherent and equitably exercised than the private sector.

I’ve pretty much resolved myself to keeping this job in a more active way than my previous 3 or 4. I’ve spent the money on toys, shows, and things I want to get done. One way to look at it would be that I’ve pretty much spent everything I would in a year and just gotten it out of the way now. My expenses have shifted as my budget suggested into more indulgence as the house got in order. My anxiety is not to do with much beyond how often I want to antagonize myself over the time in months to pay things off.

I just got done with a group, immediately put in notes, found a little vibe and energy, and then got up and meandered and started writing. I felt the incredibly little time investment. I felt how long it would take me to complete my next two sets of notes. So I stopped. It wasn’t an ambiguous worry, it was a tangibly grasped concept.

My clients speak often about either being overwhelmed and constantly busy, or seeking to be busy to keep themselves occupied and not thinking about how they feel. They’re often trying to avoid. I can vibe with that, but I want to master. I have the tingles, irrationally or otherwise, but I want to understand them so well that I don’t have to wait until there’s a time crunch or specific ask in order to address them. Also, they’re more of an annoyance than a proper “problem.” But I know they have to deal with my overall expectations of myself and witness to how I’m utilizing my time. At least, I’m pretty sure that’s what it’s about.

I think it might be instructive to consider how I lasted at DCS for 2 years. It’s my second-longest tenure at any job, and I didn’t want to leave more than had to. I had real power. I had real responsibility. I was efficient. I got to be alone and up and moving out in the world. I got into new houses and neighborhoods routinely. It had everything but enough money, respect, and accountability. I got to work with friends. It rose to the level of person I am. The only thing that has since is the amount of crap I put on my plate to do at once. Big difference being that I can take your kid in the rain or 104-degree weather in a way I can’t do construction.

Slogging through trying to start another business has its dramatic ups and downs, but it’s not a persistent pressure more than a nag and antagonism. It feels futile to be literally doing the work, but not figuring out how to get paid for it. Like, this is why I think I’m dumb. I’m smart, but not like these people who just get money. There are always more offices to call, I guess. And I feel like we’ve been double-fucked by things beyond our control several times throughout the process.

I had the thought during this all-hands meeting this morning that I don’t know how often I want to be embroiled in all of the details it takes to run a major organization. I might be taking a few cues from my newest friend who’s go-with-the-flow and not-really-plan and nap-often behavior has a certain appeal. I want to be comfortable, not constantly volleying everyone’s worries or repeating myself ad nauseum. I want the kind of comfort that allows me to pick the next stress-inducing road more than find myself forced to cope with whatever one suffices for the practical constraints of the moment.

I’m gonna get these notes knocked out when this is done. They’ll, maybe, take me a half hour as half my people didn’t attend two different groups. I don’t have any lingering emails to answer and my dad won’t be here for another couple hours. I think part of the anxiety is the thought that it really has gotten this “easy.” I can just do my incredibly easy job, see the debt decrease, go to my already-there shows. Play my ready and waiting instruments. I’m just here, and things are good, and because I was raised to never trust things are good, I get to be anxious that I have an incredible amount of access, privileges, and comforts no matter how much I’ve worked in the past or can claim to have earned them. And, you know, the world outside my bubble sucks and I can’t fix it.