Feren (feren) wrote,

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Yesterday I got the oil changed on my pickup, since it was well over 3,000 miles past due for such simple maintenance. The upshot in all this is that the engine seems happier. I'm a neglectful owner.

Today at work I fought with a server's IP multi-pathing software, and was bested. In addition to that I fought with HP's OpenView software in an attempt to tune the collection settings so that the server wouldn't collapse under the weight of the volume of things I was asking it to manage. I was bested again. I do not hold high hopes for my dog and pony show for management on Thursday. If it goes badly I can kiss well over a year's worth of learning, effort, lobbying, overtime, cursing and discoveries goodbye. I don't want my project and all that I've put into it to be for naught. This is the first time in over two years that I've really felt like I was doing my job and that I had the potential to make a difference within my employer's infrastructure. If it gets tossed aside like a child's plaything I think I'll have lost that last glimmer of hope that kept me going at all in the office.

When I got home I watched Cowboy Bebop. I finished off both of the "Jupiter Jazz" episodes.

After I finished "Jupiter Jazz #2" I went down the street and I got my hair cut. It cost me $12, and was very fast. I almost look respectable again.

When I got home I sat down, and watched the tail end of "Who Framed Roger Rabbit?" Then, I sat down and took care of the various chores online that I needed to attend to. They went very quickly. Not long after that something happened that hurt me immensely. I found myself crying the hardest that I have in a very long time. I sat in my bedroom with only my cat to hear me, with a song from the Bebop soundtrack looping, and I cried. Now that I've cried I find that I've remained unchanged; nothing is better and nothing is worse. I'm no more full than I was, and I'm no less empty than I was. I had forgotten words could hurt this much, both when they're used, and when they are absent. Further compounding the unhappiness is the realization that this is probably the beginning of the end of something scares me and upsets me more. I moved out to Illinois in 1996. It took me six years to put this all together, to make this state my home, and now it's crumbling despite my best efforts. There feels like there is little left for me to do but look on with fear for the future, resignation for the present and regret for the past. Hindsight is 20/20, they say. I don't think it's nearly that clear, because even now I don't know when or where things started to go wrong.

I want to thank the special somebody who lent me a shoulder, who let me cry on them. I know you're surrounded by problems of your own right now. I can't express how much your compassion helped me though. The little bit of comfort that I could take with it meant more than I can say.

Now I wait, and I see. The path I thought I was taking lead me astray. I have to depend upon myself to find my way back to the path, to put things right for myself again. Nobody else can do this for me.

I hope I'm strong enough.

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