Haunted

11:40am, in my office, Phoenix, Arizona, Monday morning, December 20, 2021. Trapped in my office, frustration does not abate. I used to find solace dreaming of carefree summer days. Now, idle time haunts me more aggressively than the pointless work I despise.

A Dark Cloud of Emptiness

7:08am, in my apartment, Chandler, Arizona, Sunday morning, December 19, 2021. A dark cloud of emptiness resides in every soul. This cloud causes you to feel sad and alone. You ask, “Why is this cloud here? Where did it come from? How do I get rid of it?” To which there will be no answer. So you dream, scheme, move, change, grow, conquer, rise, fall, love and lose, all trying to eradicate the intruder. But no matter what, you won’t succeed. For life is defined by two things; the adventure you have trying to defeat the cloud, and the nobility you show realizing you never can.

Proud

6:53pm, in my apartment, Chandler, Arizona, Friday night, December 17, 2021. Maybe it is weird to say this but, I am proud of the last post I wrote. Writing an informative article was something new for me and it turned out well. I will write in that style again.

Finally

6:46pm, in my apartment, Chandler, Arizona, Thursday evening, December 16, 2021. Why was today so good? What made the morning start positive and how did it continue throughout the day? I have felt unfulfilled for so long it seemed interminable. I never want to feel that way again.

Winning

2:05pm, in my office, Phoenix, Arizona, Thursday afternoon, December 16. Some wins at work today. I hired a nurse to replace the one who quit, I found coverage for open shifts, and I have qualified applicants for open positions. It feels so good to see a new team coming together.

Someplace else

1:55pm, in my office, Phoenix, Arizona, Wednesday afternoon, December 15, 2021. It is natural, when things slow down, to think about being someplace else. After all, life is more enjoyable in reflection, when current circumstances cease to demand attention. This afternoon I left my office, drove to a nearby park and sat in my car. As the bright sun warmed me, my mind wandered to last year. I recalled being in Dana Point, sitting on my couch, experiencing a similar moment. It was not a perfect time. The ongoing pandemic resurged and large group restrictions were in place. My wife and daughter had moved out and my mother, recuperating from a nasty fall, had moved in. I was settling into a new job that, unbeknown to me, was going to end in three weeks. It was not a time l felt particularly content, yet sitting in my car, remembering it, all I felt was peace. Now I am looking at decisions I will make for the coming year; Will I stay in Arizona? Or maybe move back to Orange County? Perhaps even end up somewhere I have yet to discover? Many times in life I find myself missing what was left in the past and that makes me realize something; come next year, when I have a moment to reflect, I very well could be enjoying the sunshine of a similar afternoon, in a new someplace else, missing the very place I am now.

Too small blanket

5:14am, in my apartment, Chandler, Arizona, Wednesday morning, December 15, 2021. A while ago I heard a financial planner share insight about his profession. He said the practice of allocating money is like, “a too small blanket on a cold night.” Every scenario can’t be addressed, something will always remain exposed. The lease on my apartment is up for renewal. If I stay in Arizona the relationship with my daughter will suffer. If I go back to Orange County I have no housing or job stability. Either way, I will give up or miss out on something. My blanket is too small.