Not a great start today. The fact that I live in a dining room is becoming increasingly frustrating. I have no schedule for myself. Everything I can do is contingent upon what someone else is doing or wants. I don’t have a door. I can’t establish an identity in a shared space. This arrangement has me at my breaking point.
I now retreat to my truck outside on the street to get the solitude I require since I have no way to filter noise in my current living space. No one seems to mind my discomfort since I’m not that important in the grand scheme of things. It’s true.
I guess this is a discomfort I need to become accustomed to since it will be present for at least the next two weeks and in some lesser form after that. I’m a vagrant. I’m not going to complain to the conductor that the steerage train cars are filthy. I feel that not a battle I can win or am interested in provoking.
So here I am exposing myself everyday and longing for some shred of privacy in the future. I have no dignity regardless, but I don’t care to be a victim of shame in further opening my life to public observation. Have you ever lived in a dining room or tent outside an RV? Beggars aren’t choosers if they’re smart. Humility is the finest virtue when seeking charity, I find, since it is the only state that doesn’t incur the penalty of guilt. We are all quite familiar with how I can beat myself about the face and neck with the fetid dead cat of self-imposed guilt.
I don’t ask for much. Sometimes I want to be not poked at. Other times the poking is welcome. This morning, I wanted to shut my door to the world but I couldn’t. I just had to leave the whole residence in order to have a moment alone with my thoughts. Without the obnoxious television blaring or the sounds of life stirring. I need quiet, warm, protected.
I find that explaining often goes by misunderstood more often than not. My words largely go unheeded. I am an expert of nothing; a mountebank that people passing by in the cobblestone streets pay no heed. Somewhere in the distance, a duck is quacking loudly but no one cares.
Today is one day closer to the end of this torment. Two more weeks. I can make it two more weeks before igniting the engines and readying myself for blastoff. I have the hard work done, and now the final pieces in which skills are implemented will be my next task to arrange. I just want to be up there. I don’t want to be in this circumstance anymore. Discomfort level high. Not much more room to go before the thermometer pops.
Things might be better if my attitude wasn’t such crap. I don’t have much going on. I’m not proud right now. I want to be committed, needed. I desire to be a part of an organization affecting change. Things are very muddy for me right now.
Well, this post has done little to change my mood, and that’s unfortunate. Reality doesn’t just poof when I want it to, unsurprisingly. Yet, I’m still pissed.