When Your Number is Paused.

I've been chronicling the degradation of said workplace.  Part 1 and Part 2.

Read it or not.

     the 50¢ tour:
Year after year management decides it's time to cut costs, re-focus, be more strategic, re-organize, shift with the industry, declutter, bake cookies... yatta, yatta, yatta.  To what once felt like a second family of misfits, many of those maladjusted cousins are permanently off to college (some never having said goodbye.)  What remains for those who are left; an aftermath.  Give myself a pep talk to keep going, only to have the foundation fracture and I'm left rebuilding upon tear stained rubble.

This is a short dive into how I've felt since Part 2.
11 days have passed.

A week ago last evening, Travis and I went on a walk without Leroy.  His exercise dance card has been quite full lately, so he was asleep, tucked snuggly at home.  It was a welcomed change for us to hold hands (in our tough guy way {pop the collar/single shoulder shrug}) and be completely focused on each other.  We walk a lot, not necessarily going anywhere in particular.  roaming.  This particular night was crisp but not cold, so the conversation flowed easily.  It's some of the best, cheapest therapy we can offer each other.

When it came to my turn, I broke down.  The emotions who kept insisting I had it together, closed their doors and turned out the lights.  I found myself standing next to my husband in the middle of a quiet, dark street, crying.  From down the way I saw a single car make way towards us, its beams felt like spotlights on my tears.  As it passed, my eyes shot upward so this stranger couldn't witness my moment.  It's not for them.

I composed my voice long enough for it to unravel with each step of my Tiger's.  I asked questions neither of us knew the answers to, but dispelled them into the air for validity.  I'd been oblivious to me submerging certain feelings under a worthwhile numbness.  Just enough to get through the "pain."  Meanwhile little emotional plankton were ascending, growing angry, bitter and resentful towards the entire organization.  The alph being ginormously frustrated.  When 9am rolls around, I become completely disengaged and for once, unwilling to remain motivated towards anything outside day to day.  And since I supervise several people, I'm forced to switch those feelings off when it comes to keeping them going.  So not only are they fucking with my ability to pursue my life, they are now dictating my professionalism.

I held Travis' hand tighter, nestling into his shoulders while we continued to walk, unsure how my legs were moving.

I'm over it, but they won't let me say fin.