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Monday, February 26, 2018

Being introspective. AKA Swimming in the pity pool

I've been pissed. Not somewhat irritated. Not experiencing a period of angst. Pissed.

Lately, the smallest thing has been able to set me off. And I don't like it. I don't like being wound so tight that it takes every bit of control I can muster to not kick the living shit out of my little dog when he wants to get in my lap cause he loves me, but he's getting to old to jump and needs a hand sometimes.

This isn't me. I don't kick dogs, and I don't get pissed when things don't go my way.

So what the fuck is going on with me? Time to do some introspective soul searching and figure this out.

And here's some of the off the wall crap I've come up with:

I don't like my forced retirement. I haven't worked since I got crippled in 2012. Not because I CAN'T, but because no one hires a 50+ year old man with a blown out shoulder.
Thanks to my contribution to social security, I still get a check every month. And FUCK YOU out there who say I'm on some sort of welfare. I PAID into this government dole system all my life, since I was THIRTEEN and held my first job. This is NOT fucking welfare, and I'm not trying to sit my ass at home and live off YOUR taxes. This is an ENTITLEMENT. Look up that word. And I'd rather be fucking working. What the benevolent government "gives" me isn't shit compared to what I can earn.

I'm obsolete. Or forgotten. Or replaced. The actual word is up to you, but it boils down to: no one bothers to come to me for shit anymore.
It never mattered what job I was doing, but thanks to my father raising me with a good work ethic, not only did any job I was hired for get done, it got done RIGHT.  Some of the tenets I was raised under were "If you take a man's money, you do a man's work", "I don't care if you dig ditches for a living. As long as you dig them damn well", and one of my dad's favorites, "Good enough, AIN'T!".
I always seemed to rise through the ranks quickly in all my endeavors, and quite honestly never thought anything about it. Looking back, all I can say is "Thank you, Dad. You done good."

I USED to be "that guy". The one motherfucker EVERYONE came to for ANYTHING.
Those stupid flip-flops you wore to work blew out? No problem. Just shove that little doohickey that goes between your fat ugly toes back through the hole in the sole and stick a couple pieces of straightened paper clip through it in an 'X' pattern. Won't hold forever, but it'll get you through till you get home and put on a REAL fucking pair of shoes.
Can't change your own broke bulb in that blinker that caused you to get a ticket on the way to work? Here. Not only am I going to SHOW you the four little screws you need to take out, but I'm going to use a piece of the duct tape I keep rolled on an expired credit card in my wallet to tape the allen wrench I used on the back of the light fixture so next time you can not only do it yourself, but you actually HAVE the tool you need to DO IT WITH right there with you.
Need a screwdriver, flashlight, wire, lubricant, knife, wrench, spoon, clip, hair tie, tape, or magnet? More than likely, I got it on me, or I'm carrying a reasonable facsimile to get the job done with. And know HOW to get it done, too.

Or as my adopted granddaughter told her old man when the training wheels broke on her bike: call Stevie. HE can fix ANYTHING!

Plumbing? No problem.
Electrical work? Don't be shocked, but I got this.
Carpentry? If you need a hand, I can even build THAT out of wood. Just ask Bustednuckles. And if THAT guy can't fix it, it AIN'T BROKE!

Guess I'm just feeling sorry for myself lately. Friends are fading from my life. I don't feel like I'm making a difference or even a contribution anymore. Even this farm is getting me down lately. With advancing age I'm not able to work as long or as hard as I used to could. My government dole stays the same while the cost of everything from tool replacement to food goes up. And some days it seems like not only am I NOT making progress, but can't even seem to keep up. Plus I finally got my pygmy goat breeding pair, and someone stole my nanny. I fucking hate thieves. Costs an arm and a leg to buy materials for a decent goat  pen, just to come home and find everything still locked up and your nanny gone. With only the buck left, I put him in with the pigs. They get along real well, and anyone wants to go in THAT pen is more than welcome. My boar will even gladly get rid of any evidence....

Well, thanks for letting me rant. I feel a bit better now, and I appreciate it. Guess I'll get out of the pity pool and off my ass now. Supposed to be a sunny day today. Maybe I'll get something done and feel better.

But if ya need something fixed, or just to talk sometime, I know a guy...

6 comments:

Anonymous said...

Alas, you're a bit too far away, or there would be several things we could use a hand with and pay for in both money and booze ;)

Heroditus Huxley said...

And food. Don't forget dinner.

Xenolith said...

Hey, Odysseus,
Don't know where 'too far away' is, but I appreciate the comments. And realistically, it ain't about monetary gain or booze, (well, MAYBE it's about the booze a little...), it's about my pride I guess. When my poor little vanity gets to feeling neglected, sometimes I need to take it to the pity pool for a swim so it can work out the kinks.

Oh, I'm also available for children's parties and bar mitzvahs!

Xenolith said...

Heroditus,
You bring the food, I'll do the cooking!
Most folks tell me I'm a pretty fair cook. Once they're back on their feet...

Heroditus Huxley said...

Odysseus and I are in the NE end of Joplin--bit more than a couple hours' drive from y'all.

pigpen51 said...

I know just how you feel, Xenolith. I have been earning a living since I was 11. I am 57, and wore out, as well. I too am on disability, due to a broken back in a car accident when I was just 20, plus chronic daily migraines, partly from 5 or 6 concussions in high school football, and a couple since then. So I am pretty much not able to hold down a steady job. I have tried, but not too many employers want someone who can't guarantee that they can work a full week, or even a full day.

I have had people try to judge me, and I tell them, " I will trade you, I will work, and you can have the headaches and puking, every day sometimes." None of them takes me up on it. It is really like that quite often. So I understand where you are coming from. But just keep trying to do the best you can, and that is all you can do. And just worry about relationships, that is the most important thing in life, anyway.