cancer – day 900

Write, or Stir Soup?

I worked six to ten this morning, then lost the rest of my day to doctor stuff, which, as usual ran 90 minutes. It’s flattering and I enjoy talking with them, but man, I already have to drive 45 minutes each way (or two hours, when it’s Sac) so if the appointment is going to take 90 minutes too, then I’ve basically lost half a day from work. The sad part of that statement, of course, is not the whining about how much time I spend with or getting to or going from doctors . . . the sad part is that I worked all weekend knowing I would be out most of today, and my normal work day is 12 hours.

Now I’m journaling next to the stove, idly stirring soup because I like cream soups made with milk, and at the last second I added in mushrooms and now some Italian seasonings, so I need to keep stirring so the milk doesn’t boil or burn. It is getting nice and thick now, though . . . J

I know what my priorities needs to be, and I even know at least the first few steps to getting to them. Number ONE on the list is to work less hours. I also just canceled all my movie channels and am looking forward to getting back on the road Friday, even though the house is a disaster tonight. At least all those clothes piled on the bed are clean and just need folding and packing. J And there are at least two boxes for Goodwill, computer stuff to load up, keep checking the RV systems so it actually runs when I want to leave on Friday . . .

But tomorrow I think I’m going to work from my hammock. The mornings are so beautiful here at my forest home, it makes it easy to let a 12 hour work day slip by, when you’re doing that work in the most peaceful place of solitude I’ve ever owned.

It’s possible that a radical lifestyle change (getting laid off work on disability, or quitting) could have a large financial impact, and though I’ve always said I never want to give up the mountain property, if finances dictated it, I would have to let the property go so I can keep my RV and keep traveling. I can’t lose this place of solitude though, this little bit of lane I own in El Dorado National Forest. I can’t let myself become completely disconnected with California and the beauty that is my home here.

At the same time, it’s important that I leave. Get away from the television and the ease of doing nothing when I am mentally exhausted at the end of my work day, ready to eat something in front a movie and go straight to bed afterward. This cycle must be broken, and I think it’s my work that must be broken. Broken into responsibilities that can be accomplished in a 40-hour work week instead of 70. And Matt actually had the gall to suggest there could be a pay cut in my future. I almost hope they do do that, make me a peon administrative assistant with crap wages, but, happily working only 40 hours a week, only during business hours. Then there would be time for life.