I continue to row my boat against the current, pulling hard on the wooden oars deep into the murky water as the wind whips my aging face, my lips very chapped at this point, tired, hungry with some fear in the mix as I notice the current lapping itself into a froth. Well, kind of dramatic but I love those seafaring analogies about water and life.
Actually, we have continued to prune the fruit trees at my job of three months and counting. I started in triple digit heat in September and now I go to work with frost on the ground each morning. Mr. Big I makes sure that he takes the three legged ladder to work somewhere by himself so he can talk to people on his cell phone. It is against company policy to receive cell phone calls while working but he has never been "written up" for his carelessness so he continues to vanish somewhere on the 7 AC campus with the ladder and his blue tooth tucked under his bad boy stocking cap. Addicted to his cell phone, he talks and prunes and there are no consequences.
Having the only three legged ladder taken, the other two gardeners are left with the pole pruners and it is very hard work. The fruit trees have many suckers growing atop their fine selves because they were pruned improperly. Now those suckers must be cut to the main branch and it is hard work. My shoulders and hands hurt each night and I think about leaving.
I think about leaving for other reasons which have come to join my aches. A volunteer of many years was "fired" for being too familiar with residents. A worker with a therapy dog was asked to take her dog home and not return with her. Her dog's name is Peace. I just found out that the D.O.N. is living on the campus as part of her "deal" while the employee she fired stands accused of something she did not do. Her firing stands and it seems no one really cares. All of the shredding feels like it is enough to just know that I came to work there at the "wrong time" and I wonder what it will be that will allow me to take my leave.
I have been looking for another job for two months and absolutely nothing comes my way. I apply, I wait, I go to work, I check my phone, I sleep and eat and wake to look again, maybe apply, get scared, rub my poor hands, check my phone and I pray. I pray to the God of "my understanding" and I read my horoscope. No magic came with the week save the brilliant sliver of a perfect white moon on a frozen, predawn morning in Northern California. The moon doesn't worry that they will never find a good job. The moon just is.
I recalled as I looked into my closet at all my crisp, business shirts made by Jones NY and how strong, capable, smart and determined I felt wearing them. I remembered how it felt to look good in something so simple in design yet stunning in its application. Today I dreamt of a job that would allow me to wear those shirts with a pair of jeans and some spanking tennis shoes and be who I am.
Today, I called a friend who is having a sobriety birthday and I cried on the way to work like I did in 2010 with the same feeling of sadness and powerlessness. I am very frustrated and putting one tired foot in front of the other. I know that is what it feels like to be me and I also know that there is enough magic left in the world for one small woman in her 50s wearing a Jones NY shirt. I just need the right Merlin to wave the magic wand over my wee head.
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