When It Rains...

I first moved to Colorado when I was 8 years old. I am now 46. So I have had a "relationship" with the state for 38 years. I remember back in the day, the heat would build up until around 3:00 in the afternoon, maybe a little later, and then a storm would roll down the mountains. It would rain like crazy, lots of thunder, some lightning. Then the storm would end, it would be about ten to fifteen degrees cooler and we would have our typical amazing evenings. It was one of the certainties in a state/region that didn't have many.

Two years ago, we moved back here after being away for over 20 years. The pattern I was so familiar with seemed to be gone. No afternoon thunderstorm to cool things down. The cycle was broken. Until last week. Since Tuesday a week ago, we have had thunderstorms every day. The cloud quickly darkens, we hear thunder and see a little lightning. Then the rains begin. These are quick storms...it rains HARD! And then it is over. Our driveway has washed out a bit more and it is a lot cooler outside. Just like the old days. Except now, they are calling it MONSOON SEASON! I have never heard that term applied to the Rocky Mountain region before and am wondering who initiated it. "Yeah, it's monsoon season, so I'll probably have to stay in the house all week." For whatever reason, I find it quite amusing.

This season in my life is feeling like a monsoon season. It has been so long since I had any security in a job and I have spent so much of the last few years looking for work that my career seems to be job seeking. When you add in the mental issues I battle, this is the season when--just as things seem to be warming up--the thunderstorms are rushing in and washing away the drive. Heard from the rescue mission today...no job, but don't be afraid to keep watching our hiring board and apply for another job if one pops up that catches your attention. At 46, I may never get a chance at anything that looks like a "career." I'm seeing a pattern and afraid it will last until I die: work a few months, maybe even a year, at a job and then lose the job, spend months or more seeking, find another menial job, work it a few months, etc., etc., etc. Then, with no retirement to draw on, simply drop dead one day while looking for the next 3 to 15 month gig. "Yeah, it's monsoon season, so I'm probably going to be stuck on the outside looking in until the day I die." 46 feels so old, yet it seems so young to have completely lost hope.

The First Time, All Over Again

I am such a prodigious blogger. I write at least two or three times a year like clockwork. Funny how things change without changing. Last time I wrote, I was out of a job. This time, I am out of a different job! I am amazingly able to keep things unstable in our family. I hate it and I really hate myself. The more times this happens, the more clearly I see that I am a "no-hoper," who will spend the rest of life trying to stave off the wolves and battling the demons. Eventually I will lose and perhaps the pain of living will end. Or perhaps I am so far off base that my suffering will only intensify. I don't know.

To make it even brighter, both of my daughters informed me today that I am a jerk because I kid around with their significant others too much. They would prefer I just stay the heck out and leave them alone. So, I guess I will comply. Which means even more withdrawal and loneliness. Gotta love being the guy at the party that everyone wishes would have just stayed home. It is awesome to not realize it until you have alienated everyone and you have to skulk away with your tail between your legs and hide in your room for a while...maybe forever. Seriously considering applying for disability and then I can just stay home and out of everyone's way. I suck. Just glad that what I have always believed is being consistently confirmed now. Lovely.