Two months ago today, I lost my job. Since the day it happened, I haven't talked about it. I still don't want to talk about it. Jeff is worried that one of these days I am going to have a major meltdown. Sometimes he is waiting on pins and needles for me to crack. I'm not going to. I know I'm not. A funny thing happened the day my company told me they were reorganizing and eliminating not only my job, but my department. I didn't care. I packed my stuff up took it home and started doing projects I like. I think that maybe it is a sign that I didn't belong there in the first place.
I urethaned furniture, did gardening, cleaned up the garage and some stuff in the basement. I even sorted through all my Christmas decorations. It was May and I was sorting Christmas crap. It felt good. All those little projects that waited for sometime to come were getting done. You would think I would be happier. But I'm not. I feel unsettled. I am doing everything I've dreamed of. Nothing when I want to do nothing. Quilting when I want to quilt. House projects when I really feel ambitious. But something is missing. Maybe it's guilt because I am doing exactly what I want. Every day is perfect. Or maybe I am waiting for the other shoe to drop.
I do think I know what the problem is. I am a creature of habit. I love structure and routine. And I currently do not have a routine. I think I have to work on that. I better put it on my to-do list.
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