Aside

Parting is NOT sweet sorrow

I finished tying up all my loose ends before I make the final move out of New York.  All that’s left to do is to put the stuff in the car and hit the road next week!

I tell ya, these last few weeks on Long Island have been pretty anti-climactic for me.  There were places and stores I’ve been going to that I realized would be the last time I’d ever go there, but the reality of it refused to sink in.  I’d just shrug my shoulders and move on.  No reminiscing of the past, no feeling of excitement or sorrow.  Just the overwhelming urge to get this over with and LEAVE.

I think part of why I’ve been feeling this way is that I’ve already mentally checked out of this place a long time ago.  My mind truly was no longer on Long Island anymore, so it was just a matter of the rest of my body catching up.  Long Island was no longer my home, and it had done its best to remind me of that fact every day.  But soon it will no longer have me to kick around anymore.

I’m so grateful that I was able to hit the “reset” button for my life and be granted by God the blessing of a fresh, new start.  I hope I’ll be able to find in Colorado what has alluded me for so long here: a sense of peace and respite, deep in the mountains that will soon become my new home.  The Promised Land.

I know it won’t be perfect; people being who they are will always disappoint.  But I know it will be BETTER, far better than the life I’ve had to live here.  The prison doors have been opened, and the chains that have held me in bondage have been cast off.  It’s time to be free, to live and love again.

Aside

Trying something new

WordPress (that awesome thingie that powers my blog) just updated with a few new features, so I’m trying something new here to see if I can post updates to Facebook (and Twitter) right from the WordPress dashboard.  Can y’all see me?  Yoooooohooooooooo… anyone here?  Bueller?  Bueller?  Anyone?  Bueller?  Anyone?

THE WORM HAS TURNED

Or, to quote Vigo out of context from Ghostbusters 2:

WHAT IS WILL BE, WHAT WAS WILL BE NO MORE

I worked the same job for 15 years, a job that kept me trapped on Long Island, and with no chance of upward mobility or expanding my skill set so I could explore other career options.  It was as dead end as a dead end job could be, and over the years, the work conditions continued to spiral down into chaos, destruction, oblivion, and utter gnashing of teeth.  I didn’t think it would ever end.

But then a flicker of light happened last June, and I found a new part-time job with the hope of eventually going full-time.  I wasn’t sure if it would pan out, but it was the first major break I had been looking for after years of struggle.  Since I started that new job, it had been a roller coaster ride of crazy ups and downs, but it all ended this month, when I was offered full-time and a steady salary.

When I got the news, I just sat at my desk at my old job shell-shocked.  I had gone in that morning not knowing what would happen to me, and yet by the afternoon, when I finally got the word, I realized that was the last day I’d ever have to work there.  No more menial, soul-sucking, thankless drone work.  No more being talked down to, demeaned, insulted and passed over.  It was over.  IT WAS TRULY OVER.

My supervisor had come over to my desk and did his usual daily rant about how we were understaffed, getting no help, and continued to get mishandled and mismanaged by the powers that be.  I smiled broadly and said:

“I guess this would be a bad time to tell you I’m leaving too?”

It took 5 minutes before it finally registered that I wasn’t joking… and then the blood started to drain from his face.  I gave my two weeks’ notice, and because of the benefits of it being a public job, I was able to use those two weeks to burn out the leftover comp time I had on the books.  Tee hee.

I’ll only have to return once more to hand in my resignation, ID card, FOB, etc, and then I am free and clear of them forever.  Not only them, but soon Long Island as well.

It’s no longer a dream anymore.  Now it’s real.

Prancing Time

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