15-07.15.122 in Book Two: The Fifteenth Year of the Third Millennium of the Common Era

Blah. I’m in such a weird funk right now. Just… blah feeling. I’m at work right now for a quick 3 hours, then I have to pack for a whirlwind week. Tomorrow night, Wife and I leave to spend the evening at my parents’ place before driving to Chicago for a wedding. Friday and Saturday will be spent in Chicago for the wedding of my legitimate-threat-to-herself-and-others-crazy Godmother’s son. Immediately after the wedding festivities wrap up on Sunday, Wife and I drive to the Wisconsin Dells for her big family get together. As soon as that wraps up, a long drive back to Omaha so I can work a 12 hour shift at the jail. Then get back in the car to drive to my parents’ place again for my Mom’s 62nd Birthday and my 2nd Interview. In other words… I’m looking at… almost 1400 miles of driving in my immediate future.

All of which I would be more than fine with if this Dallas County job was a sure thing. Honestly… if I knew I would be moving my wife out of Omaha and moving both of us closer to a city where we still had friends… I could conquer anything. But the job is most certainly not a sure thing. And that kind of hit me today as I realized that I hadn’t sent out any resumes in July yet. I want/need to send out at least one before this whole Big Driving thing. There is an opening in a NW County that would be 222 miles from my parents and 251 miles from my best friend and Wife’s parents. In other words, it would be a Law Job in Iowa (conforming to my requirement of Law Job and Wife’s requirement of Iowa) but we would be living farther away from all of our people than we live now.

Plus… for some reason… all day today I can’t quite shake the feeling that where I am at 30 is where I should have been at 20. And that gets me thinking about medication and mentality. I wasn’t diagnosed, and we didn’t start treating, until I was 20. Experimenting with pharmacology solutions to my Fibro certainly changed things. I didn’t feel the pain as intensely, I was much more in control of my moods and emotional outbursts… but the cost was everything changing. How I looked, how I processed, how I emoted, how I connected to others, what my hobbies were, where I liked to go, what I liked to talk about… I am as different from the person I was a decade ago as that person is different from 10 year old me. Which leads me to question how much of it was maturing that I needed to do, how much was chemically induced… all of those questions. And looming large in the background? The ever-present reminder that… the only woman I dated after starting Fibro treatment is the one I married. Was that coincidence? Chance? Was it luck that I met her at “the perfect moment” or was I likely to marry whomever I dated during that time?

I love riddles. But a fair riddle, a good riddle, is one that has a definitive answer. Life, it seems, is not a riddle… because so many Life Questions will never have an answer, never have an explanation, never reveal a purpose.

Last updated July 15, 2015