In the heat of the night July 9, 2012

 


(found in another notebook from when I thought I was going to be fired)

  

The heat broke finally, but I still struggled to sleep – even with the air conditioner.

Each time I managed to slip into that doze that leads to sleep, a cat jumped on me or some panicked thought. So, I couldn’t quite tell where waking left off and sleeping began – if at all.

I feel beat up – and it’s nobody’s fault but my own.

Yet the mood swings are obvious, melancholy coming over me most often in mid to late afternoon, fought off to some degree by coffee. So, by the time night comes, I am so wired, I can’t get to sleep even with sleeping pills.

This is largely what happened last night as my head got filled with the horror of the next few days as the scandal of my life gets unveiled in the office – as the other two halves of this so called love triangle plot to get me fired, building their case on scraps of evidence they have gleaned from my web site, and my misread actions at work.

I have already started to pack up at work for my eventual loss of job – after which I will have to explain it all, an even worse situation, an affair that I should not have become involved in and did not enjoy when I was involved, but now must pay the price for because I have not been able to let go.

I’ve tried to keep my distance, taking out my frustrations in poetry and song, but even these will be used against me, as well as my desperation to leave auxiliary office, to escape this box of loneliness I face each day when I drive south to that office while in the north, the other reporters share a camaraderie I cannot share.

 

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