I had some dreams ... they were klowns in my koffee.

(With apologies to Carly Simon)

This is my journey through job transition from a toxic environment to a better life. Join me for a few thoughts and a few laughs along the way.
What are "klowns in my koffee"? They are the factors large and small that make you less than you are. A "klown" can be a grossly incompetent boss,
a short-sighted policy or a moronic coworker. They won't kill you, at least not immediately, but they abrade the soul
as you scrape past them to get through the day. Sometimes it's best to dump them out of the cup.


Day 43 - Koming Klean

This evening, I re-read the old posts from Day Zero to yesterday. Over the last few days, I've gotten calls and emails from friends and family who just started reading the blog, read from the beginning of the experiment, and were concerned about me. I almost felt that I should add a Spoiler tag that says "I cheer up on Day 16."

When I wrote about feeling frozen out by some friends, I didn't realize then that my whole perception of time had shifted. Three or four days or a week or so were enormous expanses of time to me but not so to people still stretched by the Monday to Friday work schedule. In the meantime, I've caught up with those friends and now understand that they were busy and distracted. Going in the other direction, friends have sent me job leads that I have not jumped on with immediate responses as I have continued to wrestle with trying to figure out just what I want to do next. I appreciate the opportunities and the caring on which they are based; please forgive my faltering replies at times.

I think of the times when I was slow to react to a transition in the life of an acquaintance — quick emails I didn't write, phone calls I didn't make, funerals I didn't attend — all the times when I didn't seek out people as soon as they may have needed to hear from someone; I resolve not to make that mistake again. Each person's emotional welfare is his or her own and there comes a time to take the Big Boy or Girl pill, but none of us appreciate how truly far the ripples from our little pebbles go.

Looking over the old posts, I see that there are a number of stories, big and little, left unfinished. Are the raccoons gone? Are the weeds flourishing or flambéed? Am I dumping the 25 pounds by self-discipline or through amputation? Where's the bird house? Will my mother be opening a box with a lanyard in it and, if so, what will she do with it? Will the rain let up so that I can be funny again tomorrow or will there be more cloudy weather and navel-gazing? Will I get in gear and look for a freakin' normal job or have a brilliant self-employment idea before I run out of daily living expenses? As they said on Batman, for the answers to these and other questions, tune in tomorrow.

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