Funk-a-Funk & All That Jazz

I awoke today in a funk. A funk-a-funk-a-funk. Like a dog with wet fur, I tried repeatedly to shake the ickies from psyche, but they just clung to me for dear life, as if feeding on my anxiety.

It all started last night, really. So many things weighing on my mind. My husband’s lack of a job, my own job instability and the abysmal results of my ongoing job search (no bites, only borderline sketchy recruiter types - it's ugly out there), the attempts to figure out Steve's Cobra application process and subsequent costs for our family and most importantly, the angst surrounding the monumental decision of whether or not to sell or rent our vacant house, a decision that needs to be finalized within the next 7 days.

Up to this point, I have been on auto pilot. There has been cause and effect, at least in my brain. I will do this and that will happen. Trying to go with the flow.

My situation is no different than thousands of families out there right now. In fact, according to many articles, it is slowly becoming the norm. This does not ease my mind.

I think, over the last few days, it’s all been hitting me. The uncertain future. The living on borrowed time. The horrible job market. The even more abysmal real estate market. The living on my one paltry 30 hour a week income for an unknowing undefinable amount of time and the accompanying heart palpitations. I finally let it all in and without the shield of Zoloft to blunt it, I am like a walking, open sore.

I did have a sort of cry fest to my boss this morning and while it helped a bit, she offered no words of consolation. In fact, she led me to believe that the company very well be in trouble, all of our future's uncertain. While not what I wanted to hear, it's probably what I needed to hear right now. Knowing the entire picture will help me as I try to navigate through all of this. That which does not kill me makes me stronger and all that jazz...

I’ll get over it. I’m the sole breadwinner right now. I kind of have to keep it together. But I’m allowed to have minor freak outs once in a while, right?

The cry helped a little to alleviate some of the pent up emotions. I knew I either needed a good workout or a good cry. The pouring rain was preventing any possibility of a workout, so the cry was just what the doctor ordered.

Onward and upward!