Meltdown Monday
Every morning I read the New York Times. And every night I have nightmares.
I can’t help it. I see the end of the world.
Earthquakes in Los Angeles. Banks are failing. Osama is still alive. China is our enemy. The dollar is worthless. House foreclosures are on the rise. Unemployment is skyrocketing. The AIDS rate has shot up 40%. And 11 hikers were just killed climbing K2 the second tallest peak in the world. They shouldn’t have died.
Some people see the glass as half full or half empty. I think the glass as broken. Shattered into a thousand little shards of irreparable fragments.
Of course it is Monday, and I’m still slightly hung over from the weekend. Which at this point is not a good thing. Not that it really is ever a good thing to be hung over at work, but today in particular, it’s not a good thing.
Last Friday, my boss quit. He left the company. Moved onto a better job. Which at least for the time being means that I’m the boss. I’m the one in charge. And that’s frightening. Not because I can’t do the job. I can do the job. I want to do the job.
But nobody has talked to me about the job. I don’t know what anyone expects from me. And I need expectations and guidelines. I need bars to reach and goals to set. I need structure.
Put me in a cage and feed me three times a day, and teach me how to sit. I’ll be a good dog. I swear.
I’m on the floor now looking for the little pieces of glass. Maybe if I find them all I can glue them back together. Build my own cup. A safe glass. That won’t break. Filled with lots of water.
I hate mondays.
