Winds of Change

christmas-bows-1419940-639x423It is probably too early to use such a title.  It’s probably too weighted for fate to accept my direction and follow along.

However, I have a “meeting” with a woman who has reviewed my resume to look at the campus where she works.


And a brief break for a big ol’ anxiety attack.   And more of this feeling of not being able to calm down.  Seriously, I feel like this thing is massively bearing down on my chest and I am not engaging in anything that would help me deal.  Just pushing through day to day to day.  Whooooooooooosh.   Deeeeeeep breath.

It will be okay tomorrow, it will, I just feel like the desire to breakaway is 1000% and I can’t yet, and salt and fat and coffee and blood pressure and bad plans and falling hair and ugh.  We will find distractions and distractions will become like peace.

I keep thinking about how I would drive there.   I keep thinking about how just about two year ago I outright panicked driving to the job I have now for an interview.  (I did, nevertheless, make it.) I keep thinking a hundred steps ahead, about quitting and about winter.  It makes me feel breathless after two days of feeling keyed-up and restless as it is.

I know that once I teach myself the way, if it became necessary, I could absolutely drive myself to that job.  I google-mapped the road and clicked along the street as I casually hyperventilated, but with a bit of logic and time to think, it is eminently doable.  It is not impossible given the new places that I made familiar when necessary in the past. That’s true.

As for Wednesday, I have absolutely no issue with getting a Lyft, I have a 50% off coupon, and riding there so I don’t turn up like some sort of jittery maniac.  I don’t have the time or opportunity to practice it yet.  And it may well be that what I learn about is not what I want to leave my job to do.  It may not be something that is going to lessen my anxiety, and would worsen it.  It might be that I don’t fit their criteria even though we’re giving it a shot.

Once I wipe this away, the only torturous thought that remains is the idea that I would not go check it out, that my life isn’t allowed to stretch this far, that I am not worthy of reaching a new level where I am paid and valued for what I bring to the table.  That I would pass this by because I have this fear.

Meanwhile, there is life.  Some of it spent watching the debate, watching Hillary wipe the floor with this shrieking mass of bigotry, misogyny, ineptitude, thinking.  Some of it spent adoring the new sweetness that is Eleanor the Kitty Cat.  Some of it watching America’s Test Kitchen.  Some of it spent conquering with Dido in Civ V.

It’s never all the freak-out.  Whooooosh.  Breaaaaathe.


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