I’ve mentioned pity whiskey before. This is the bottle of Makers Mark that my mother gives me when she comes over. It is usually disguised as a poodle. Long story there. On April 18 she gave me a 1.5L of it. You’re probably wondering what happened. Here goes:
There have three large events of late. One seemingly bad, another seemingly just as bad and the last seemingly bad depending on your perspective on life. And I literally mean your perspective on life.
Let’s start with the big one. On April 18, my curent employer decided that they wanted to be my previous employer. I can’t say I was very surprised. One day I will tell you all that sorted tale. So I got to come home and tell my wife that I had gotten the old heave ho. My feelings were (still are) mixed. I was not really thriving there. I was little more than a junior analyst who was supposed to pound the round peg into the round hole. Not at all what I was told I was going to be doing. Nine months of that had a fairly predictable toll on me and out I went. That 50’s heart-throb knows what happens when I get bored of a project. HI-YA!
That is all I have to say about that. More later.
Next, the house we are living in is about to become the house we were living in. The lady we rent the house from decided to put it back on the market. With our blessing. Of course, that was before I had lost the ability to prove an income. Ouch. Cue Phillip J. Fry from Futurama: ‘Do refridgerators still come in the those big boxes?’ Bender: ‘Yah, but the rent is outrageous!’
I’m being melodramatic, but I just lost my job and my home! (Sighs with the back of his hand on his forehead) Honestly, I am not as concerned as maybe I should be. What I seemingly take so lightly is a real problem for a great number of people. It is times like this that a faith life comes in really handy. Really, really handy. I have taken the the opportunity to participate in Eucharistic Adoration, which is something I have longed to do for some time. I have time to really look around and understand how lucky I am. It could be worse. I could have ALS.
So finally, the third thing. I know. You are sitting there cringing. What else happened? Who died!?
No one died. Someone lives. I don’t if it is a he someone or a she someone. I’ll let you know ’round mid-December.
So here I sit, drinking my pity whiskey.
And so it goes.