Without a schedule

During recovery from knee surgery, I kept a schedule. I wanted to maintain my usual sleep patterns. I wanted to be well enough to return to work without any problems. And yesterday, as I went through my rehab routine, I couldn't help thinking how useless it all was.

I awoke today paralyzed with fear. It all comes down to money, of course. A friend said that she thought if I could make it through the next 18 months, I'd be fine, Maybe she's right. My schedule for today, is to sign the separation agreement and get what money they are willing to give, go to the library and sign up for unemployment insurance, look through the want ads. But what do I want?

I dreamed last night that it was today and I have one last thing to finish up for work even though I no longer worked there. I did the job but when I left, I became lost. I could not find my way home. I wandered around in a world of people who were busy with their lives and who would not help. I found myself in a courtyard filled with student actors--young, fresh, and with their lives ahead of them and filled with promise. And I remembered when I was one of them and part of something. But mostly, I was lost with no way home.

My career as a writer/editor is over. No one will hire me because of my age. OK, that door is closed. Customer service jobs, the usual fall back for those of us with limited skills, have dried up and gone to India.

Why do people stay in uncomfortable situations, whether it's a bad marriage or a bad job? Because it's comfortable and safe. Because the unknown is so terrifying. I did this to myself and I have no one to blame but myself. I have to put one foot in front of the other and walk. At least I have one good knee on which to make the journey. But I am alone in this, as I am in everything else.

Meanwhile
I am trying to make it through the day without spending money. I am not succeeding.

Gas: 18.55 ($2.99 a gallon)
Cigarettes: $34 (a carton and the kid behind the counter CARDED ME. I haven't been carded in 40 years)
Cost to print something out at the Library: 60 cents but I had to put $1 on the no refund account

I need trash bags.

Tomorrow, when my head clears, we will discuss how difficult it is to roll over my money from their 401/Pension into a personal IRA. The horror, oh the horror!