three failed attempts

My first name for this post was going to be "waking up from the nightmare" but the idea of calling the past three months a nightmare seems to pessimistic, and also coronalife is not over by any means.

My second name for this post was going to be "waking up from the fever dream" but with fever being a symptom of corona and also figuring out that waking up makes it sound like the past few months were not reality.  And certainly there is an unreality about it all, but the fact is that all of it has really happened.

My third name for this post was going to be "the shifting sands of time" which is a play on living a night shift life but then there's like a sahara desert sand cloud thing coming?? (which PS I know is actually not only normal but also a good thing for hurricane season but still)

So. . . three failed attempts it is.

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God has been very good in the past few months, and so I struggle with not wanting to complain about being provided for but also recognizing that there is an aspect of un-sustainability that is coming to a head.  I don't know that I will be able to completely articulate everything concisely but I also don't want to continue to let the streak of not writing and keeping everything as an inner one-sided dialogue as that has been pretty much my life for most of this weird existence.  I recognize that all humans are social creatures, and I've had my first real tastes of spending time with people again.  I've heard laugher come out of my body that almost sounded foreign, not because I have been in some horrible dark place but because it was actually mixed with other human voices.

And so, a little update.

My tenure at Amazon is coming to an end, primarily because I cannot do night shift in combination with church and gigs, and a close second being that the job is starting to hurt my hands regularly (as in, my left index finger has not stopped hurting since mid May, and even now, my last shift having been Friday night into Saturday morning as I took Saturday off in order to be somewhat functional for Sunday morning's first gathering, both hands ache when I make a fist).  But it's the first one I need to record, at the very least for myself, so that when I look back in a couple weeks and realize that I'm quitting a job in a climate where financial security is totally gone, that there is legitimate reasons and also God's hand of provision is here, though I can't see exactly what the next step is at this precise moment.

The first few weeks of work are a blur, partially because I was 100% on survival mode and partially because I was choosing to do 4-5 shifts a week.  I think I worked like three weeks in a row of close to 60 hours.  I literally have no idea how I did it.  The job itself isn't horrible, but I have to remember the salt in this sentence because the job as it is supposed to be isn't horrible.  That has only represented about 20-25% of the shifts.  Most of the time there has been shenanigans, sometimes little ones and sometimes big ones.  Thankfully the past couple weeks have been mostly good, and I have high hopes for this final weekend.

But. . .

Night shift is having grand emotional and physical repercussions.  I could not tell you what has happened any given Sunday night, because I spend more of it in half conscious or unconscious states than conscious ones.  Even just now, so Sunday was church and I woke up around 7 PM but I didn't get out of bed until like 9, and then slept on and off from 11-2 before I finally was fully awake.  And then I had my first gig since March Monday morning at 10 AM, so I got home late again and woke up around the same time as Sunday.  About an hour ago (so like just after midnight) I finally have sense of my brain and where I am.  I went back and forth between my recliner and my bed, lights on, youtube playing, in and out of consciousness and the added fun of sleep paralysis the past three weeks!  Or maybe four, definitely and particularly bad the past two either way.  I'm not sure what's the symptom and what's the cause (am I falling apart because of night shift?  or is the thought of getting off of night shift causing my body to rebel?) but I'm definitely over it.

Related, I didn't realize how much of my internalizing my thoughts about this different work life was drawing inspiration from Steven King's IT.  Like. . . my hands! mirroring Kay (friend of Beverly) who gets attacked and spills the beans when her face is threatened with a sharp object. . . or "SHENANIGANS" like how Richie puts trademark phrases.

I don't know.  I'm rambling a little but basically I'm getting off of night shift starting next week, which is really the point of this all.

I didn't realize I was earning PTO, being a seasonal hourly employee.  But there were lots of changes made when they hired the corona force, and that was one of the benefits.  So I was able to take the Saturday's off that I needed to in order to be present physically, emotionally, and mentally for Sunday mornings.  My last day there is this Friday, so happy early birthday to me.

Psalm 119:89-96 (MSG)

What you say goes, God,
    and stays, as permanent as the heavens.
Your truth never goes out of fashion;
    it’s as up-to-date as the earth when the sun comes up.
Your Word and truth are dependable as ever;
    that’s what you ordered—you set the earth going.
If your revelation hadn’t delighted me so,
    I would have given up when the hard times came.
But I’ll never forget the advice you gave me;
    you saved my life with those wise words.
Save me! I’m all yours.
    I look high and low for your words of wisdom.
The wicked lie in ambush to destroy me,
    but I’m only concerned with your plans for me.
I see the limits to everything human,
    but the horizons can’t contain your commands!