Monday, February 11, 2013

Taking a Shillelagh to My Fears

I finally went back to the gym today. It's been probably a good eight years or more since I've been there, and sitting in the parking lot looking at the front door was the hardest part. I'm not even looking to lose weight, although I know it's going to be an inevitable outcome if I do this right. I'm looking to feel better. I'm looking forward to going on a hike without feeling like my lungs are on fire. I want to shop for clothes again. I want to know I can go out in the back yard and dig holes all damned day long if it is necessary.

My brother is on the telephone telling me that the hall is hiring any moment and it's a plum job that could last for months, and I have spent a weekend getting bent out of shape over it. I'm on the verge of running around on high-gear panic. The kids aren't ready, I'm not ready, do I really have enough travel money to cover this until payday...? And then calling the hall and finding out I haven't moved an inch on the out of work list was  crashing, crushing, wondering are they ever going to send me out to work again? Of course they are. Eventually. Maybe not now. Probably not now. But eventually.

So I'm online now, blogging away, to tell myself to chill the hell on out. I have a check list. I know how to prioritize. If I got called to work today, then things would have this interesting way of just working themselves out. If I don't, I'm still setting up and meeting goals. Everything is going to be all right one way or seven.

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