Stream of Conscience

My favorite officer at work retired Tuesday.  This guy was amazing; technically smart, a leader who took care of his people, someone who spoke up against the red-tape stupidity inherent in any organization.  And he was a great friend.

When I left for work that morning, I was yakking to the cats.  As I stepped out the door, I told them we were losing one of the best that day, and proceeded on my way.  What I didn’t realize was how much it was going to affect me.  I began tearing up in the morning and knew I wouldn’t be able to hold it together at his ceremony.

Fortunately he was here yesterday.  (He’s dedicated like that.)  I apologized for missing his retirement and he said he’d noticed I wasn’t there.  But as I told him why, I began crying again.  He was flattered, although he kind of apologized for it since he saw how sad I was.

I’m not sure why it affected me so much.  I’ve said good-bye to good people before, and my reaction hasn’t been this strong.  I’m not going to try to analyze it now.  I’d just end up crying.  I’ll save that for my counseling session this evening.

Yeah, yeah,  I missed a day of NaBloPoMo again.  I was actually working on a post yesterday (on my adorably cute little pink netbook) while waiting for an appointment.  I even found a WiFi connection, but it was a private business, and I was reluctant to piggy-back off them.  So I just wrote the post offline with the intent to transfer it later in the evening.

Yeah, that never happened.   It’s probably a good thing, because it was nothing more than an internal debate about whether to return to  the chorus rehearsal I went to last week.

My counselor was all over me about returning to the chorus.  It sort of irritated me because I’d finally gone, but apparently the fact that it wasn’t particularly enjoyable wasn’t enough.  She says I need to give it until… December.  December?!?  Good grief!  Isn’t that changing the rules in the middle of the game?

Anyway, being the irrasible person I am, I didn’t go.  Had the counselor not been so emphatic about it, I probably would have gone.  But the little kid rebel in me surfaced.  So there.  :þ   I know, real adult of me.

Oh, and on top of everything else, I have a pimple on my eyelid.  And it hurts!  And it’s making my grumpy.  And the weather is crappy. 

With the unveiling of the Supernatural season 4 DVD cover, I suppose now would be as good a time as any to discuss my only #1 fictional hero, Dean Winchester.  Normally I’d say Dean’s brother Sam Winchester  is my favorite, but Sam allowed himself to be conned for two freakin’ years and the dope brought about the apocalypse.  What an idiot!

There’s much that has been written about Dean Winchester already.  I chalk that up to the character being played by Jensen Ackles.  The actor has many rabid enthusiastic fans, mainly because he’s ridiculously handsome.  Plus, it doesn’t hurt that Jensen is a terrific actor.  I won’t go so far as to say he never misses, but he is probably the most underrated actor in Hollywood right now.  (Personally, I think one day he will be as big as George Clooney.  Gosh, I hope I didn’t just jinx Jensen’s success.)

Dean Winchester is one of those guys you love to hate and hate to love.  He’s tough as nails, hard to get to know in any but the most superficial ways (which for women usually means taking off their clothes).  Yet he’s deeply passionate about his family, and saving people from things that go bump in the night.   But underneath his bravado and considerable swagger, the guy is massively damaged.   Even though he was the “good Marine” who (almost) always followed his dad’s orders, he never received his father’s gratitude, until the very end.  But even now, every once in awhile John Winchester reaches out from the grave to screw with his elder son’s head.  It adds wonderful complexity to the character.

Truthfully, in the beginning I think Dean Winchester was meant to be the hero’s “sidekick,” like Han Solo to Luke Skywalker.  (In fact, series creator Eric Kripke has used the Star Wars analogy to his show many times.)  But Jensen Ackles has brought so much depth and humor and passion to the role, Dean Winchester has become one of the most fascinating characters on television.

And if you’re not watching Supernatural, get off your ass and start!

That would be yesterday.  As I was driving home last evening, I realized how depressed I was.   The problem is, so much of how I feel about myself stems from outside sources.

The day started with the discovery that my instincts about two guys on Twitter were wrong.  I don’t remember if I was in a good mood before that, but the news just deflated my balloon.  For once, I’d just like to be right, ya know?

Work always sucks.  Nothing I ever say is right.  So I shut up.  But the last couple days I thought I could actually provide some help.  Nope.  It wasn’t good enough. I don’t want to dwell too much on work because it’ll only depress and frustrate me more.  I wish I could find something I liked, that gave me a sense of purpose and pride, but I’m at an age where I’m not hire-able.

On top of everything else, I got a nice big car door ding on the pristine side of my car.  It’s not the first scratch it’s received.  I also got one (not a car door ding, more like a shopping cart scrape) the day I had my purse stolen.  Geez, kick a girl when she’s down, will ya?

I did slug through the funk and managed to do 10 minutes (plus) of housework.  The good news?  I found a check for over $2500.00 I’d been missing.  (It’s in the purse, ready to be deposited at lunchtime.)

Perhaps I’m  in a trough in my biorhythm.  I just need to push through it until I’m on the upswing.

On second thought, I don’t want a do-over yesterday.  I’d rather leave it behind me and move on.