Anyway, sometime early Thursday morning my immune system stood down, and the sensation woke me up. I don't know how to describe it except it's a generalized relaxing, somehow, though not actually muscular in nature. It's like there was this noisy sensation in my lungs that suddenly just...went away. Over the past few days the cough has stopped being totally dry, starting with this one cough that felt like it drilled right through the bronchial tube that serves my right lung. I've been taking 12-hour Mucinex and it's been helping. Also, slathering my neck with Vick's salve at bedtime. I feel better today than I did the entire week prior.
But this evening I'm feeling pretty depressed. Mom always said that when one of us had been sick, and we started either being depressed or cranky, she knew we were getting better.
Saw this in my "Images 2" folder and it really got me in the feels:
I find a lot of interesting images on Imgur. There's one that's too big to post but it shows various people with physical conditions, and they're being hectored by other people with things they say to people with mental health issues. You know: to the guy who's been stabbed in the gut, "It's like you're not even trying." To the guy puking his guts out: "Have you tried...you know...not having the flu?" To the guy injecting himself with insulin: "I don't think it's healthy that you take medication every day." The image is titled, "Helpful advice."
Same kind of thing as my "broken leg" metaphor.
Anyway, in this state of mind, it's too easy to look at everything and decide it's hopeless. Just have to keep reminding myself that despair is a sin, I suppose.
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Go to work, sit in my office and do computer things, have lunch, sit in my office and do computer things, come home, fuck around with the truck some more, cook dinner, go to bed.
One of my coworkers was abruptly not a coworker any longer, no explanation. it was one of the folks that really knows what she was doing, too.
Everyone who I work with--the other on-site service people--like me, they all work for a contract agency that supplies IT services to the company I work at. When the company decided to change services, [current employer] hired all the on-site people that were otherwise losing their jobs. Some of these folks have been in these jobs for a very long time, like one guy that said he's been there 10 years.
Feeling better but not well, late to work because the Jeep let me down, looking at my 2000 Jeep sitting in a parking lot with a bunch of other, much newer, vehicles; me just feeling tired and worn-down and flat, I imagined someone at the plant asking me why I didn't buy a newer car, and me having to explain that job security is a hard thing to come by in IT, especially when you're a contractor--and when you're constantly worried about your job, you don't take out loans for things like new cars.
Career-wise, though I'm finally in a place where I can use my talents for the most good, I still have to worry. You can't be totally worry-free but there ought to be some sense of stability. I've only had this job for six months, FFS. Talk to me in November or December and we'll see what I do then, maybe.
I don't know if I was childishly optimistic or just a complete fool in my twenties, buying new cars while working part-time and going to school--but my damn car payments weren't anything like they'd be these days, either. But I never thought, "What if I lose my job?" The dot-com bust was still in the future and IT was going great guns then and I got nearly every job I interviewed for.
But when I think about it, I don't believe I'd want to go through the 1990s again, particularly not the early 1990s. I look back at that time in my life and it just aches.
Spent a chunk of time writing a regressive time-travel story, because the concept appealed to me, but I rewrote the thing to death and these days it's the last thing I'd want to have happen to me. Main character woke up suddenly 15 again, remembering everything that happened to him as an adult--and about the time I was working on the final draft of the story there were a couple of TV series like that. (Do Over was the one I watched, and I actually quite liked it.) My story is crap--it was crap before over-refinement spoiled it--and it's not worth publishing. But it convinces me that the "press rewind" scenario would just suck and have no redeeming qualities.
Going back further would be even worse. Kids are assholes.
* * *
Anyway I need to get to bed, so I'll spare you further nonsense.