Today, I feel stressed. I feel stuffy. I feel a tiny bit numb. I do feel a little, though.
Today, everyone seems to want something. Everyone seems to want everything. I am looking for a new appartment. I am looking for a new job. I am living in the new. This is something that my gyspy soul recognizes, but that my Ukranian heart grimaces at. I’m feeling torn.
Today, everyone is asking. What should I do? Why don’t you? Where are you going? How do I? No one waits for me to answer one person’s questionbefore shouting theirs out. I work with a population that runs the gamut from high-functioning to low-functioning. Somedays, it’s like having a room full of self-reliant adults. Other days, it’s like having a room full of pre-schoolers who have been blown up using a photo-copy machiene. Drowsy in the morning, hyper before lunch, ready to play, ready to fight. Tomorrow, my numbers will double. I will feel exhaustion. I will feel alone.
Admist all this, people keep on searching, and finding. I’ve been getting more and more and more hits with the search, I think I’m falling in love. Funny that. I remember when I was in love with this job. I remember when it was shiny and new and I could control it. As my numbers increase and the walls on my room seem to pull even closer in, I feel caged. I crack my neck repetedly throughout the day. I need something, anything. A run, a hug, a chocolate chip cookie. I need something. I’m glad I don’t do drugs anymore, because with days like these, I’d be an addict by now. I’m looking, though, and applying, and calling. There is another job out there, just beyond the bend.